Future Imperfect
by Xavras
Summary: The Death Eaters haven't gone away - the remaining blood supremacists wage a silent war against the blood traitors. One individual decides to go back and time and change the outcomes and prevent the blood purity movement from continuing to control their destiny...(eventual Harry/Daphne, will maintain the canon Draco/Astoria relationship)
1. Chapter 1

**1990**

 **The Daily Prophet** front page headline on September 7, 1990: Renowned Professor of History of Magic in Australia to Speak at Ministry Next Week.

Professor O'Malley, the renowned magical historian from Australia will be speaking at a special meeting being sponsored by the Ministry of Magic this next Thursday, September 13.

The Australian Ministry of Magic has begun changing their own courses at the Queensland Institute for Magic since he began lecturing on the history of magic. Many leaders from the ICW have commented about how this professor's views have been both challenging and enlightening. His theories on magical power and magical inheritance are noteworthy for his stressing the fact that magical strength is something that nature itself can imbue into different families, not unlike the theory of genetic mutations leading to evolution as postulated by certain muggle scientists over the past 100 years.

* * *

1.1

* * *

The following week, there was a large gathering of magical people to hear the professor speak briefly on his theories. Several prominent pure-blood members if the Wizengamot had already publicly denounced Professor O'Malley as an attention seeking muggle-borne loving fool. Minister Fudge had been convinced by some of his staff that bringing the outspoken Australian professor to Britain would help his image, particularly as magical Britain continued to try and recover from the trials and devastation of the war with He Who Must Not Be Names and his followers, the Death Eaters. His undersecretary had warned against bringing in someone to speak at the ministry who was clearly so divisive but Fudge had more than a couple of aides telling him that hosting a talk with Professor O'Malley would show him to be a leader who is concerned for the future of magical Britain and increase his popularity.

With an unusual amount of confidence for himself, Cornelius stepped up to the podium as the scheduled talk was about to begin. They were gathered in the large atrium at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Reporters and dignitaries and members of the Wizengamot were all present.

"Wizards and witches, friends and neighbours, lords and ladies, proud members of the Wizengamot, and all people of our dear magical society," began Fudge, "I present to you a man whose reputation precedes him. A man whose teachings have begun to revolution the magical education system for our brothers and sisters in Australia. A man whose unique perspective on our history is a story that we all should take the time to hear."

There was polite applause from those who were gathered as a tall grey haired man with a thin salt and pepper beard stepped up to the rostrum. As the applause started to die down, the man began to speak, "Thank you, Minister Fudge, for your kind introduction. People of magical Britain, I greet you all with the warmest wishes as I look forward to my time among you as I learn about your country."

He paused briefly as the crowd politely applauded once more. "I am not sure that my theories are as revolutionary as some would have you believe, however I am quite sure that some of the things which I have taught in Australia and spoken about elsewhere, are not exactly popular with all members of any magical society."

A heckler called out from amid the crowd, "That's right you muggle lover."

Fudge started to signal to an Auror to deal with the individual in the middle of the crowd who was creating the disturbance, but Professor O'Malley waved them off. He smiled genially as he then began to speak to the unknown person from the crowd. "I believe you have me at a disadvantage sir, as I do not know you nor do you know me and everything about me. But let me reassure you, and the others, that I am not here to speak about the wonders of muggles. Let me be perfectly clear that I completely support the Statutes of Secrecy, that I completely agree with concerns that the muggle world would be a serious threat to our way of life if they learned about us. But, our society, our world, has been too isolated from the muggle world to truly understand the threat they pose to us if they were to learn of us. I am a historian. And as a historian, I cannot forget the tragic stories of witch hunts long years ago. But I also know that we must not hold hatred to the muggles of today for the actions of their ancestors hundreds of years ago. Actions taken out of fear and confusion and in some instances hatred. But mostly actions taken out of fear. Too much of the magical history we teach our children, the wizards and witches of our future, is based upon wrongs committed years ago, hundreds of years ago. Too much of the history we teach our youth, too much of what we were taught ourselves, focuses on how we or more precisely, our ancestors were wronged. Whether it be the goblin rebellions, the witch hunts, the giant wars, all of these have multiple sides."

"You love freaks and creatures more than wizards and witches!" called out another voice.

The professor grasped the sides of the podium and looked down momentarily as he shook his head. Then looking in the direction of where the voice called out, he calmly replied, "Once again, you do not listen to my words. I have not taken sides on any issue in history. My goal is to help us all learn that we need to view our past with a more open mind. Lets start by considering the goblin rebellions. We learned in school of the history of the goblin wars. We learned of the toll on wizards and goblins alike. We even learned of the concessions made to end those wars and rebellions. But how often do we consider the events that lead to those very same wars and rebellions? If the goblins chose to close their banks as they did in 1343, which lead to one of several rebellions, we often look at the events after the doors to the goblin caves being closed, the ensuing battles, and the supposed victories. We rarely, if ever, examine the events that lead to the anger on the side of the goblins that resulted in the rebellion in the first place. All I say is that we need to understand history so that we can avoid the same mistakes that led to a problem in the first place. Take the recent war with Grindelwald that affected much of Europe not too many years ago. Maybe it is ancient history to those of you who went to school in the 1960s and 1970s, but to those who had to deal with the magical supremacy mantras and the deaths of loved ones that time is not too far back, and clearly not nearly as ancient history as a goblin rebellion from 1343. We need to understand what motivated a man such as Grindelwald to try and take over the magical world, even by working with muggles in their own war against each other, so that we can prevent the destruction of our world by another of the mindset of Grindelwald. We want our society to prosper, and with magic at our hands, there is no reason why our society cannot prosper in the midst of the much larger muggle society. Economic reforms to enable our businesses to work within the muggle world, thereby increasing viability and profits, will only lead to a stronger magical economy and a stronger magical world. If we can learn from the actions of those who stopped the rebellions, or even look at the times in history when rebellions and wars were averted, then we can learn to be a better society for all of us."

Cheers broke out from several places around the atrium which finally culminated in a much louder round of applause.

Fudge was feeling very uncomfortable with how the evening had progressed so he stepped up to the podium in the midst of the cheers and the clapping and Professor O'Malley stepped aside.

"Thank you for such interesting and enlightening ideas, Professor," said the Minister for Magic, not so subtly dismissing the guest speaker for the evening.

Then he turned back to face the crowd. "I am sure we can all agree that we look forward to a stronger community and healthier magical economy for the betterment of all of us!"

Fudge's makeshift summary brought another round of cheers as he thought to himself how skilled he was to put an end to any potentially rebellious ideas being put forth by the professor while at the same time appearing supportive and garnering his own praise from the crowd.

Concluding the scheduled speeches of the evening, Cornelius added "Thank you all for coming tonight and joining us, and please, enjoy some refreshments at the back of the hall," as he pointed to a series of tables set up with juice, wine and horderves.

The next day the Daily Prophet ran an article on the third page praising the speech made by Professor O'Malley while the front page was dedicated to more information about what a wonderful leader Cornelius Fudge had proved to be over the years as well as results of the latest Quidditch World Cup matches, which were being held later than usual due to being moved from the Middle East to South Africa due to muggle unrest and threats of war.

* * *

1.2

* * *

Friday afternoon at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry found the faculty meeting with their headmaster.

"Did you read what the Daily Prophet had to say about that Australian history professor?" Pomona Sprout asked Filius Flitwick who was seated next to her.

"Of course, of course," replied the diminutive half goblin charms professor. "He even spoke of the goblin rebellions without saying any words that could have been construed as provoking the goblin nation. That, I'm sure, will make it back to the head of Gringotts Bank."

Snape scoffed, "Why are we wasting our time discussing a muggle loving unknown supposed academic from afar? What does an Australian professor of magical history professor have to do with us?"

Minerva glared at her fellow professor while the others were too embarrassed by the outburst from the head of Slytherin House to respond.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore leaned back as his eyes twinkled at his colleagues. "Now, now, Severus, my boy, there is much I think we can learn from this professor. In fact, I am not unawares of the grumblings of some of the students about having a ghost as their instructor for History of Magic, and I was considering speaking with this Dr. O'Malley to see if he might consider relocating to Hogwarts next year to become our new professor for that class. I think it is well past time for Cuthbert to move on, don't you?"

Severus was openly surprised by the comment from the headmaster. "You are actually considering doing away with Binns?"

Albus' eyes twinkled again. "It is probably past the time for Professor Binns to move on to the next great adventure. I am sure that some students will miss his unique teaching style."

"They'll have more problems getting caught up on their sleep," muttered Septima Vector, the arithmancy professor.

Albus Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at her comment, then spoke again to the faculty. "Nevertheless, I will be meeting with Dr. O'Malley this evening to open up discussions about his joining our faculty."

He then dismissed the faculty meeting, but Minerva McGonagall stayed behind. Once the others had all left, she spoke quietly to Albus. "So, next year he should be attending Hogwarts, finally returning to the magical world."

Albus blinked at first then spoke comfortingly to his transfiguration professor, "Why, yes, of course, I am looking forward to Harry attending here."

Minerva raised an eyebrow at the headmaster's comment. "You have been checking on him regularly? He is doing fine with those muggles, isn't he?"

"Of course he is, Minerva. I have been having him watched over by a neighbour that no one in the community knows is actually part of our world," he added with a smile.

Minerva still was frowning at the headmaster. "I suppose you wouldn't tell me who it was, even if I asked."

Hearing no response to her question, she forced a smile before saying good day to the headmaster and heading to her quarters, still worried about the orphaned son of two of her favourite students.

Albus was momentarily concerned about the response from the head of the house of Gryffindor, but he knew he had to get to Diagon Alley for his planned dinner with Dr. O'Malley to open negotiations about him joining the faculty at Hogwarts. To Albus, it simply would not do to not have the best available professor on his school's staff, and until Dr. O'Malley became a well known entity in Australia he just had not found anyone who knew and understand magical history than the late Cuthbert Binns, alive or dead. Maintaining the reputation of Hogwarts being the elite school of magic in Europe, if not the world, was important to Albus, despite the watering down of the curriculum they had seen over the years. He also did not anticipate any real difficulty getting the man approved for the post, despite expecting opposition from certain members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I have never read any stories about Draco travelling in time. I have read (and even written) stories with time travel with Harry and others. If this story seems similar to others, that is no intentional. To those who have accused me of being a Draco fan, I simply find him an interesting character. This story is an attempt on my part to write a story where the protagonist is someone other than Harry. Yes, of course Harry will be a main character, but we will see how this story unfolds with a different focus, with a different motivation for helping to change the events of the books. It will probably not be nearly as long as my longest stories, it may not even end up being more than ten chapters, but we shall see. Depends on how many twists I throw in during the middle of the story and towards the end of my planned plot….**


	2. Chapter 2 - Welcoming Feast, September 1

**September 1, 1991, Welcoming Feast**

The new students at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry had finally all been sorted. There was a little drama as the sorting hat had taken over five minutes to complete the sorting of the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, and had placed him into Gryffindor. The actual house he was sorted into was not of any surprise to anyone, or at least not to anyone who knew his family, as both of his parents had been in Gryffindor and most members of the Potter family had been in Gryffindor. The issue to several observers was why did the sorting hat take so long in stating the obvious choice for the Potter heir.

But soon the feast was underway and all of the students and faculty were finishing their meal. Albus Dumbledore rose from the faculty table and headed over to the magical podium, and began to speak. "Most years, I give my little speech prior to your enjoying the welcoming feast but I decided to do things a little differently this year. So, I hope you have all enjoyed your meal, and I will begin the announcements. Before reviewing the rules, which we will review, I would like to take the time to introduce to you our two newest faculty members. The first change in staff being our very own Quirinius Quirrel, who will be taking over the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor after serving admirably as the professor of muggle studies for several years. Filling his position, is Alfonse Washford, who had previously studied under Professor Quirrel several years ago."

Dumbledore awaited for the polite applause to die down before he continued with his announcements. He then cleared his throat briefly before he added, "And in a move that is sure to surprise several of the returning students, I am happy to announce that we have a new professor for History Of Magic. Please join me in welcoming Dr. AC O'Malley, who comes to us from the Queensland Institute of Magic in Australia."

There was a mixture of cheers and applause and shocked silence from various students. A tall man with grey hair and a salt and pepper goatee stood up and nodded in response to the applause. Albus nodded back at the professor and then he continued with the remainder of the announcements for the school.

While many of the students ignored the headmaster's list of banned items and places in and around the school that were considered out of bounds, many of the students were discussing the latest addition to the faculty.

Ron Weasley turned towards his twin brothers, Fred and George who were beginning their third year at Hogwarts. "I thought you said we would have a ghost for a teacher so we could sleep through that class."

Fred and George shrugged their shoulders, "Alas, young brother, the headmaster chose not to consult with us before making any decisions about faculty appointments," stated George.

"Too true, dear brother," added Fred, "while the chance to nap…"

"Or plan pranks," interrupted George.

"...Or plan pranks" continued Fred ignoring the interruption, "is a valued time in our most busy schedules, it seems that you, little Ronniekins, will actually have to pay attention in class."

Ron grumbled and shrank down in his seat.

Harry looked at the faculty table, at the new professor with the grey hair who was apparently staring intently at the Slytherin table, and then he turned to his new house mates. "Anybody know anything about this professor O'Malley?"

Hermione Granger, the bushy haired first year muggle born witch whom Harry had met on the train spoke up. "I read about him in the Daily Prophet last year. After Professor McGonagall told me and my parents about my being a witch, I have been reading the Daily Prophet at least once a week. Professor, or Doctor O'Malley, has degrees from muggle and magical schools. He is considered the expert on magical history and even has spoken here at the Ministry of Magic last year on the topic. He stresses the importance of learning from history so we do not have to repeat it, especially wars and strife. I think there was some talk of wizards who opposed his appointment to the faculty because they fear he will be biased against pure-blood students."

"My brain hurts from listening to you," commented Ron who looked up and down the table, hoping to find some more dessert to add to his plate, but as he couldn't find any more food his own plate disappeared from in front of him. Noticing that this had happened then caused him to whine, "But I wasn't done eating!"

Just then an older student walked up to where the first year students were sitting. "First years, first years," called out a boy who had a slight resemblance to Ron and his twin brothers.

"First years," said the older student once again, "I am Percy Weasley, one of the Prefects for the House of Gryffindor and I will be showing you how to get to our dorms in the Gryffindor tower. Everyone shall follow me, and stay close, so as not to get lost or get turned the wrong way but the moving stairs!"

"Moving stairs?" asked Harry quietly.

Hermione heard his quiet question, and she in turn replied quietly, "Of course, didn't you read about it in 'Hogwarts a History?' It's one of my favourite books that I picked up at Flourish and Blotts earlier this year. I've already read it three times."

Ron rolled his eyes at her comments as he stood up with his fellow first year Gryffindors to follow his older brother to their dorm.

* * *

2.1

* * *

History of Magic for the first year students was separated by houses, and the Gryffindors had History of Magic on Tuesdays. The first class was uneventful as Dr. O'Malley began by discussing magical heritage.

"Now, everyone, I am sure that some of you in this class are muggle borne, some are half-blood and still others are pure-blood," he began while sitting on the edge of his desk. "Does anyone among you know what difference this makes for your magical abilities?"

The room remained in silence for nearly two minutes. The awkward moment was interrupted by Hermione Granger raising her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger," asked Dr. O'Malley.

"I have never found anything about differences in magic potential in any of my readings of Hogwarts: A History," she proclaimed.

"Of course not," agreed the professor. He then looked around the class, "Now, don't the rest of you think that I expect you all to read that book. Honestly, I have never read the entire thing. In fact I had a student in my year of school who continually spouted off quotes from that book, and it eventually became more than irritating." Then turning back to Hermione he tried to avoid her feeling chastised as he continued, "Now, Miss Granger, don't take this the wrong way. Your contributions are important."

Then the professor addressed the class once more, "Who can tell me what squibs are?"

Lavender Brown raised her hand feeling a little brave, "They are borne to pure-blood families I think, and they don't have magic."

AC O'Malley gave her an encouraging smile. "Do any of you know of a squib borne to a half-blood family?"

There was once again silence in the classroom. "I didn't think so," stated the professor. "Squibs are the product of inbreeding amongst pure-blooded families. Although, they do not want to admit that. Does anyone here know what the magical world can learn, should learn, from muggles?"

Lavender Brown once again spoke an answer, "They have better and more varied clothing styles? These baggy robes are the absolute worst!"

Several of the students chuckled at her comments. The professor himself gave a slight smile at her response. "Not exactly what I was thinking of or looking for, Miss Brown." The professor was smiling as he remembered that she and her friend Parvati (or was it Padma?) Patil were more concerned about fashion and attacking bout than they were about learning magic. He immediately doubted that he would have much affect on those two girls.

"Any other thoughts?" he asked.

"Science and technology," offered Hermione once again.

"Very good, Miss Granger," said the professor as he got up and walked behind the desk and approached the chalk board. He picked up a piece f chalk, rolled it around in his fingers for a moment before putting it down and then turning to face the class once again. "But aren't there problems with muggle science and technology when it comes to the magical world?"

"We can't use eclectic cities so why would we care about muggle teck-ologies?" wondered Ron aloud.

"Muggle _technology_ ," explained O'Malley, "is more than _electricity_ , but much of it is based on harnessing electricity. It is also a misconception that all muggle technology cannot work in the magical world. Here at the castle, well, the amount of ambient magic would most likely interfere with many devises. But the simple fact that there is no source for electricity makes using almost any muggle electrical device impossible."

The class was listening intently, although Ron's face was bright red from embarrassment as it was made clear that he mispronounced certain words, words that he was sure he heard his father use fairly regularly in his work.

"Science and technology also includes other disciplines of study, including biology and genetics," added the professor.

Hermione Granger was puzzled by the direction of this class. "I thought that this was a History of Magic, not Muggle Studies, and how is it that you know so much about muggles anyway?"

Dr. O'Malley inhaled deeply before responding to the bushy haired Gryffindor. "We're getting around to the relevance, Miss Granger. And to answer your actual question, in my work I have previously had a fair amount of exposure to the muggle world. It was most illuminating to me and my family at the time."

That seemed to satisfy the young witch.

"Genetics," continued the professor, "a field of science that was initially explored by a monk studying pea plants. What the muggle text books do not tell their students is that this monk, Mendel was his name, had a friend who was a wizard, who grew herbs for use in potions. This wizard, a famous herbologist and potions master discovered techniques to grow certain plants that would help improve the quality of certain potions. It is because of that herbologist that potions ingredients eventually were given a rating system to help guide potions masters in choosing the ingredients, particularly for the more complex potions."

"Who was that wizard?" asked an intrigued Neville Longbottom who upon hearing this information became brave enough to actually speak up in class.

"That would have been a certain Garrold Longbottom," answered the professor, recalling how this young and chubby student who was considered a near squib would grow up to become a strong wizard and a leader in the fight against the Death Eaters by the time of the Battle of Hogwarts and eventually the Herbology professor at Hogwarts. As a student, he remembered picking on Neville relentlessly, but now he saw the potential benefits of a better relationship with the young man, especially for his young self's future wife's family business. Just thinking on how that would matter to his younger self was giving the professor a headache.

"So, this muggle science stuff helps us have better potion ingredients and better potions," concluded Ron, trying to redeem himself.

"Yes, but that is not the point I am trying to make now," said the professor, causing Ron to become even more frustrated. "No, the idea of genetics, of how traits can be passed down from generation to generation is not one that only affects plants. It affects people too, both wizards and muggles."

"Then where to muggle-borne witches and wizards come from?" asked a confused Hermione.

"That is a problem that has not been answered, or not yet, or at least not as far as I am aware," replied O'Malley. "But it is the question that needs to be asked, and most wizards and witches lack the ability to find that answer. But fret not, even if there are no ongoing genetic analyses of magical inheritance, there is much that can be learned from observation. Observation of magical traits over generations. It has been postulated that muggle borne witches or wizards are either the result of a genetic mutation that opens up the ability to utilise magic, or perhaps there is a recessive gene that is passed down among squibs and that after many generations the magical gene is eventually expressed again. But this does not fully explain squibs. But we will get to that later. What we can look at is magical indexes, the measure of how strong someone's magic is."

O'Malley picked up a glass of water that was sitting on his desk and he took a sip then he continued with his lecturing. "We wont't be getting into the details of these indexes, and we won't be looking at anyone's scores through this class. To put things simply, wizards and witches from half blood families and from muggle families tend to have higher magical indexes than many pure-bloods."

Seamus Finnegan raised his hand and his face indicated his confusion. "But my mum, she always said that the pure-bloods are powerful witches and wizards and that I would have to work hard as a half-blood to even have a chance in this world."

"And your mum would be right, Mr. Finnegan," replied O'Malley.

Now Hermione's face scrunched up as she was confused by this statement. "That doesn't make sense to me though, based on what you just said."

Dr. O'Malley smiled at her, pleased that he had stumped her at this point, something he was fairly sure would not be easy to do most of the time. "Now, you need to understand what makes one wizard, or witch, more powerful than another. Part of that is the magical index which we just reviewed, although briefly. Does anyone have an idea of what the other factors in magical power, or perceived magical power?"

The students all sat quietly trying to derive he answer to his question. Neville Longbottom had the courage once again to speak up. "Family magic," he stated softly.

Hermione turned to face Neville. "What is family magic?"

Neville looked to the professor who gave him an encouraging nod. Neville then replied to Hermione, "Well, family magic, it is something many of the older families, especially the ones who have pureblood status have and they keep it, well, within the family. Its special family spells that only they know. So, their spell repertoire will either be larger or at least different from other wizards and witches."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She turned to the professor. "That's not fair!" she exclaimed. "That shouldn't be allowed!"

Those students who were of pureblood background were aghast at her words. Dr. O'Malley rubbed his forehead as though he were trying to abate a headache. Then he looked up at Hermione, forced a smile and then he began to try and explain the situation to her. "Lets look at this from a different perspective," he began slowly. "Suppose all of your families collected jewels and gems. Suppose your family had rubies, Mr. Potter's family had sapphires, and the Longbottoms had diamonds. If you wanted to have diamonds, but didn't have any, would it be right for you to demand that Mr. Longbottom give you some of his diamonds."

Hermione squirmed a little in her seat, then she said, "No, but he could sell them to me."

The professor raised a finger, and waved it slightly at her, "Ahh, but what if you asked him to sell you some of his family diamonds and he said that his father and great grandfather had found those diamonds, and they had cut the gems themselves to make the nicest diamonds in the world. And as such, they meant an awful lot to him. Then he says to you that he won't sell you his diamonds, and he suggests that you either speak to a jeweller or gem crafter, or go search for your own diamonds. Would that be wrong?"

Hermione was still uncomfortable and bit her lip before responding. "No, I guess it wouldn't be wrong."

Dr. O'Malley nodded in appreciation of her admission. "The old families all have their own magic. New families, new generation wizards and witches may not like it, but it is what gives them, the old families that is, an advantage when facing off, say in duel, with a half blood or a muggle borne. Their opponent may have a stronger magical index, stronger magical reserves, but they may have a more diverse array of spells."

"But why would they be fighting int he first place?" asked Hermione.

"Because those wizards or witches who come into the magical society from the muggle world do not understand the old ways, the traditions that have been held for so many years by the old families," explained the professor. "The new blood, as it were, often want to make changes, bring things and ideas from the muggle world into the magical one. That causes the old families to get defensive and to not trust the younger families."

"That's why the last war occurred?" asked Hermione. "That's why You Know Who attacked Harry's family?"

Harry cringed slightly at what happened to his family being brought up in class.

"No, but that was used as an excuse," stated the professor. "Some thought it was about the old ways, but what they almost all failed to see was that the war as all about getting power for one individual. An individual who was very powerful magically, and who managed to get followers around him by getting them to react to their fears. Does remind you of anyone from muggle history?"

Hermione nodded in understanding. "Yes, the muggle war, World War Two. That's what Hitler, the German leader did. He rallied support by placing the blame on one group of people even though their problems weren't the fault of the Jews."

Dr. O'Malley nodded and stood up in front of the class once again, "Well that seems to be all that we have time today. Next time we will start to learn about actual magical history, but we need to understand all of magical history with these ideas we discussed today. We need to keep this in mind."

The students all began to get their things together and as they started to head out of the classroom, Dr. O'Malley called out, "Mr. Potter, would you mind staying for a couple of minutes so I can have a word with you."

Harry flushed slightly, wondering just what it was he was being called back for, and so he nodded to Neville and Ron indicating that he would catch up with them soon. "Yes, professor, what is it?"

"Have a seat," he said as he pointed to a seat in front of him.

"Erm, okay," he said as he slid into the chair.

"I hope that you didn't have a problem with where the discussion winded up going to today," he said simply.

Harry shook his head, "No sir, it was a fascinating class. I think I learned a lot about magic, and stuff."

"Good, good," said the professor. "There is one more thing. I understand that you had a bit of a run in with one of the Slytherin students on your way to school the train."

Harry immediately recalled his confrontation with Draco Malfoy, and he wondered how Dr. O'Malley knew about what had happened. "Well, you see, professor, Malfoy came up and offered his hand in friendship, but he said he could help me discern who proper wizarding families were, and I was sure he was being to my new friend Ron, Ronald Weasley. Ron and Draco nearly got in a fight. So, I didn't like him trying to start a fight with Ron. I never really had a friend before I met Ron, and so I told Malfoy, I told Draco I could figure out the good sorts of families on my own."

"Oh, I see," said O'Malley. "Perhaps Draco was a little to harsh, perhaps you may have overlooked the opportunity to make friends, other friends from who is in your house."

"But why? Professor McGonagall says that our house mates are like family while we are at school," replied Harry.

"Will you always be living with your house mates? What happens after you all graduate? You don't get assigned jobs to work only with people in Gryffindor if you're one of the Lions, and the Slytherins have to work with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, even Gryffindor graduates when it comes to the magical world and life after school."

Harry raked his fingers through his hair as he considered what the professor was saying, and scratched the back of his head. "I think I get what you're trying to say. But, I'm just not sure that I like Malfoy, um, Draco."

"I'm not suggesting that you two become best friends," counselled the professor, "but perhaps give him another chance. And, yes, I will be speaking with him about what I heard happened."

* * *

2.2

* * *

Several days later the Slytherins and their first class in History of Magic. It started off very similar to the class with the Gryffindors, which was very similar also to how things went for both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. However, the Slytherins protested at the idea that half-bloods and muggle born students might have a higher magical index. Dr. O'Malley tried to reassure them that there was indeed evidence to support his claims, but he knew well enough that the majority of the students from the house of Salazar Slytherin would have a hard time accepting this information.

Once the class was ending, Dr. O'Malley called for Draco to stay behind. Draco sent off his bookends, Crabbe and Goyle, assuring them that he would meet up with them at lunch. Pansy Parkinson stayed behind with Draco. Dr. O'Malley looked at her and frowned. "I don't recall requesting your presence, Miss Parkinson," he admonished.

Pansy smiled at him, "That's okay, I'm just waiting here for Draco."

Dr. O'Malley raised one eyebrow and tilted his head slightly. "Again, I do not recall requesting you to stay. I'm sure you can find your way to the Great Hall on your own. Mr. Malfoy will meet up with you there."

Pansy huffed, but then picked up her book bag and turned around and left the classroom. "I'll see you at lunch Draco," she called out over her shoulder.

"What can I do for you professor?" asked a truly puzzled Draco Malfoy.

O'Malley stood up and walked to stand behind his desk and put his hands in his robe pockets. "Mr. Malfoy, I have become aware of a certain, altercation shall we say, that occurred on the Hogwarts Express on your way here last week. An encounter that occurred between you and one Mr. Potter."

Draco's face fell, surprised that any professor found out about it. "It wasn't my fault, I tried to offer my hand in friendship," he protested. "I didn't do anything to him, nor to that blood-traitor Weasley."

"I would request of you to be careful with the use of that phrase, blood-traitor, Mr. Malfoy," spoke the professor. "You never know who might be labeled as such, and it is never a pleasant term. But the issue here is that I would like to encourage you to not go looking to antagonise Mr. Potter. Remember, he is still new to this world. He was not raised in the magical world, despite what you may have been told. Do not miss out on any opportunities to be a friend, to offer friendly advice. Don't be too hasty in burning bridges."

"But he hangs out with that blood — with that Weasley," argued Draco.

"I'm not asking you to be best mates," stated the professor, "just consider being open minded in how you relate to Mr. Potter. Harry Potter is _not_ your enemy. I'm sure your father has taught you the importance of making allies, not enemies."

"Yes, he has, sir," agreed Draco.

"Good," acknowledged O'Malley. "That will be all for today, Mr. Malfoy. You are dismissed and you can now run along and catch up with your house mates."

* * *

 **AN: Chapter 3 will be occurring in the future - 20 years after the end of the Battle of Hogwarts...with more explanation of what is happening and why...**


	3. Chapter 3 - 2018

**2018, twenty years after the fall of Voldemort (original timeline)**

Draco Malfoy was closing up the office at Greengrass Imports. His late wife's family's business had become his own to run after her death, which was following closely upon the passing of her parents, Cyrus and Isabella Greengrass. He didn't have time to consider the various situations that lead to him becoming a widower. Their son, Scorpius, would be at the Great Hall right about now, having dinner with his fellow fourth year students at the Ravenclaw table. Draco surprised himself when he was actually relieved when four years prior he had heard that his son had not been sorted into Slytherin House. Draco sighed as he looked at the picture of Astoria Greengrass Malfoy that he kept on his desk. He then whispered to the picture, "Everything I am about to do, I am doing for you, my love. Merlin, I miss you, Astoria."

Draco Malfoy made his way down Diagon Alley to one of the fancier restaurants, "The Silver Broomstick" where he walked in and looked around for someone. Spotting a blonde haired woman sitting alone at a table he smiled slightly to himself and made his way over to join her.

"You're late," she said quietly without looking up from her menu as Draco sat down across from her.

"And you're as charming as ever, Daphne," replied Draco with a smile.

Daphne casually waved her hand under the table, then she looked up at her brother-in-law. "You invited me to dinner, Draco, and your note you sent to me was _intriguing_. Curious thing, how you made the letter burn up and destroy itself once I had read it."

Draco smirked slightly at Daphne. "Just because you're an Unspeakable does not mean that you are the only one who knows something about creating magical tricks."

Daphne smiled slightly at his comment, before her face returned to its impassive mask. "I already set up silencing wards, so no one can overhear our conversation, as long as the waitress is not standing at our table."

Draco nodded in appreciation and returned to looking at his menu. A minute later the waitress arrived and took their orders. Draco handed her both of the menus and waited a minute after she had left before he began to speak once again. "So, Greengrass, I need some help from you."

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "So formal for you Draco, especially when you are the head of Greengrass Imports, the company my great grandfather started many years ago. Something must have you all in a tither."

"The murder of my wife two years ago has made me more than a little irritable at times," stated Draco calmly, "something that I thought that you of all people would understand, _Daphne_."

"But the Aurors claim that she was killed in an accident involving a group of muggles," said Daphne whose voice was strained.

"Neither you nor I believe that rubbish from the ministry," said Draco with a sigh. "It was the work of the Blood Supremacists, we both know that. Just because Potter defeated their leader all those years ago, that doesn't mean that they actually went away. I am sure that the Department of Mysteries has not missed that simple fact."

Daphne remained impassive, her mask in place. Her lack of response to Draco's statement was frustrating to him.

"I know you were never a supporter of Voldemort and his followers back at Hogwarts," stated Malfoy, "so why are you so hush-hush now about this topic?"

"The same reason why we are sitting here in the middle of a very public restaurant having this discussion as opposed to your place, your office, or worse yet, my home," replied Daphne, her mask slipping slightly as more than a little anger came across in her words.

"Theo," stated Draco quietly. "I never cared too much for him back at school, and he seems to have only inherited the worst traits from his family."

"And here I thought you two were chums back at school," added Daphne sweetly as she took a sip of wine.

"Back when I foolishly believed the blood supremacy message that my father and others like him continued to spew forth," hissed Draco. "At least you only heard it routinely while we are at school, your parents didn't feed it to you regularly while you were growing up."

"Oh, your dear old mum and dad," smiled Daphne. "Tell me, how is Narcissa?"

Draco closed his eyes, "I wouldn't know. And you know she and my father had to flee to Australia to escape the persecution they were facing from the blood supremacists after being labeled blood traitors for supposedly helping Potter at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"What? You don't keep in touch? I'm a little surprised by that," said Daphne honestly.

"It would be too dangerous to send long distance communications," said Draco softly. "If the blood supremacists found out where they were…" His voice trailed off, his unfinished statement all too clear for both of them.

"Well, then, Draco," started Daphne, "what exactly is it that you wanted to speak with me about?"

"I might as well cut to the chase, then. Time travel," he said simply. "I know you are working on that in the Department of Mysteries. I do supply some of the necessary ingredients for your department's research after all. So, there is no point in denying that you are working on time travel."

Daphne took another sip of her wine, then narrowed her eyes once more. "So, brother-in-law, you want to be able to go back in time and save your wife?"

"Yes, and no," stated Draco.

"Interesting," observed Daphne, "Draco Malfoy learning true subtlety and intrigue. I am impressed. All those years in Slytherin House actually paid off."

Draco rolled his eyes at Daphne.

"Very well, I'll play along, for now," continued Daphne. "What if I _was_ working on time travel? What is that to you? Altering time lines is a _very_ dangerous undertaking. And what would be in this for me?"

"My plan would be to travel further back in time than anyone ever has," stated Draco. "No, not to stop the attack on my wife. All the way back to when we started school, or perhaps before. Change the war, advert the war perhaps. But stop the war from happening while we were at school."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "And how would you go about doing this? And again, what is in it for me?"

"One, I'm not sure, I'm still working on a plan," Draco began his explanation. "Two, I know more than you think about your home life with Nott. I am sure that it is not something anyone would ever describe as pleasant."

Daphne's mask slipped momentarily at Draco's comment.

Draco noted this, but continued, "I also noticed many things back in school. You seemed to fancy Potter. From afar, of course, just like the true Slytherin you are, but you fancied him nonetheless."

Daphne looked away for a moment to gain control of her emotions before turning back to face Draco. The waitress showed up at that moment with their meals. Daphne and Draco both thanked her, then after she left, Daphne spoke again in a whisper despite the silencing charms she had already placed. "What are you getting at, Draco? Nothing can be done about that now!"

"But if I went back in time, and I was able to change things, certain things, perhaps you would not have needed a marriage contract with the Nott family. There are, or were, more influential families, but your father was not given the chance to do anything about that."

"But how? When? That would be impossible," she exclaimed.

"To a muggle, anything we do with magic is deemed impossible," replied Draco with a smile. "But I promise you this, if you help me head back in time, I will do anything in my power to change your future, for the better. On your sister's memory, I swear I will do this. For you. For her. For him."

Daphne wiped a tear from her eye. "But how? How do you know you can do that for me? Why Potter?"

Draco smiled thinly. "I can try, And I can at least prevent the contract with the Notts. Besides, Potter never deserved to end up with that Weasley bint."

Daphne took a deep breath and her mask was back in place. "It will take me some time," she said.

"Understood," said Draco. "And it will take me time to work on the rest of my plan. From where I am sitting now, I have the time to plan, because if you can do this for me, for us, for all of us, the future we are both looking at right now will never come to pass."

As they finished their meals in silence, a reporter from the Daily Prophet saw the two having a meal together. Draco cancelled the silencing charm that Daphne had cast earlier when he called over the reporter.

"You seem to be paying too much attention to me and my sister-in-law, Romilda," stated Draco.

Romilda Vane hid her surprise at being spotted spying on the couple.

"Despite what you may want to think, Vane," added Daphne, "my brother-in-law and I are just spending some time reminiscing on the life of my sister Astoria. If you might recall, it was two years ago tonight that she died."

Romilda Vane gulped slightly, realising that her intruding on these two was not uncovering an extramarital affair but just two relatives commiserating on the anniversary of the loss of a loved one. Romilda told herself that she actually could have compassion for people once in a while, and she decided tonight would be that one time, for a while. She apologised and then she quickly left the restaurant.

Draco turned to Daphne, "I will send you a message when I have finished my preparations. It will be a simple message about your nephew. Nothing else will be in the message."

"Wise," agreed Daphne, "who knew that Draco Malfoy could be smart _and_ subtle?"

With that comment she arose from the table and left the restaurant, and she left Draco to take care of the bill.

* * *

3.1

* * *

Two nights later, Draco Malfoy walked into a bar in Hogsmeade. It was on the far side of the village from where the students usually would go on their occasional Hogsmeade weekends. Draco scanned the establishment and saw several occupied tables, and his eyes were drawn to a table in the corner with one man, with red hair, sitting alone. Draco made his way over to the table and sat down.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" snapped Ron Weasley as he placed his now empty mug on the table.

"Ah, ever so polite and erudite, Ronald," remarked Draco.

Ron glanced briefly at his beer mug and then he sat up straighter, eyeing Malfoy warily. "Again, _Draco_ , what do you want? Why are you here?"

Draco sighed internally and swallowed slightly before responding, realising that this evening would be as difficult as he ever imagined it would be.

"I know we never got along back at school," began Draco.

"Well, with you constantly calling me a blood-traitor, what would you expect?" replied Ron defensively.

"An epithet which has in recent years been applied to me and my family," observed Draco. "So as amazed as I am by that simple fact, you and I do have something in common after all of these years, besides attending Hogwarts together."

"Well, all except that last year," added Ronald.

Draco called over the waitress and ordered a couple of beers, or whatever it was that Ron had been drinking. "I know you probably won't believe me, Weasley, but that is precisely why I am here. I have become more of a pariah then you and your family ever were. In case you didn't know, my own mother helped Harry Potter during that final battle. But the three of you; Potter, Granger, and you, you all weren't at school that year. Very little has ever been spoken about what happened that year. I've always wondered what did you three do? Where did you go? What were you up to? I mean, before I saw you all at my father's mansion when the snatchers brought you there."

Ron looked carefully at Draco. The waitress placed the mugs on the table and left. Draco picked up his mug, and offered a toast to Ron Weasley. "In case you never heard it from me, I want to thank you for what you three did. You saved me and my family from a life of servitude to the Dark Lord. Or what would have most likely happened is that he would have killed my entire family. So as strange as this may sound, you and Potter and your wife accomplishing all that you did might have left me with a little indebted to you. My life and the lives of my parents, are directly related to your success with that war. For that, all I can say is cheers, and thank you."

Draco took a sip of his beer. Ron picked up his mug, raised it in acknowledgment to what Draco had just said, and took a big sip. "Well, if you can be man enough to actually come in here and thank me, I suppose that I can be man enough to accept a beer from you, Malfoy."

Ron then put his mug down and then narrowed his eyes and looked hard at the man sitting across from him. "Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, _Draco_ , what is it that you really want?"

"You wound me, Ronald," replied Draco with false hurt in his voice. "I truly wanted to thank you, and as I did say earlier, I am more than curious about what it was that you three got up to while the rest of us were at Hogwarts, suffering the scourge of the Carrows."

Ron looked around the tavern and reassured himself that no one was listening in on their conversation. "It's not like I can really tell you what happened, its been a secret all of these years."

"But thats the thing," said Draco. "No one really knows. Oh, I am sure the Ministry knows, but I knew you three, at least from afar. The public doesn't have any idea what you three really did when you were on the run. I mean, other than once getting caught by snatchers. And then having my aunt threaten all of you. If you recall, I put myself on the line that day when I refused to tell Bellatrix that it was Harry. Any fool could tell that was Potter with his face hit by a stinging hex. If my Aunt Bellatrix thought I was lying to her she would have skinned me alive, or probably something far worse than that. As it was, you managed to escape and she was angered by that. Particularly that the fool of an elf, Dobby, actually helped. I heard that the elf died in his efforts to save you. I was truly sorry to hear about that."

Ron took another big sip from his mug, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked back at Draco. "Well, there are reasons why we can't tell anyone about what happened back then."

"I'm sure there are," agreed Draco, who took a small sip from his mug. He noticed that Ron's mug was nearly empty already, so he called over the waitress and ordered another round for Ron.

Ron finished the mug in front of him when the waitress returned with the next mug of beer. Ron looked suspiciously at Draco who simply smiled at Ron.

"You know, I actually understand what you must have been going through, perhaps a little," added Draco.

"What do you mean, Malfoy?" wondered Ron.

"It's been a little over two years since my wife, Astoria died," said Draco quietly. "The ministry gave an official report that she was killed in an accident by muggles, but I received clear warnings from the remaining blood-supremacists that they were behind what happened, and it was to avenge my family helping Potter and you all way back at the Battle of Hogwarts."

Ron's eyes nearly teared up at this very personal revelation. "I only ever heard the official report, but that was bad enough mate. I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to Hermione." Ron then took another drink of his beer.

"So what did you all do before you were brought to my house, or afterwards for that matter?" asked Draco, pretending to truly care about Ron.

Ron nodded silently for a minute, before deciding that maybe he could tell Draco. Ron had never really spoken about that year with anyone since that time, not even with Hermione or Harry. And now he had learned that Draco had lost his wife to the same people who took out his brother George and so many others during the war. "Well, you see, Voldemort, the Dark Lord, he made himself nearly immortal. He made these things called horcruxes. He made a whole bunch of them. And he hid them. We had no idea what or where, but we searched and we found them. Oh, Dumbledore had found one, the Gaunt ring, at Voldemort's family's house. And your father had one. You know, that diary from back in second year, it was a horcrux too. It nearly killed my sister that year and nearly brought back Voldemort. Harry was so lucky when he faced off against the basilisk in the chamber of secrets."

Draco was amazed at how easy it was to get Ron to finally open up to him. "Wait, Voldemort made these dark items, and you all found them, and destroyed them?"

Ron nodded. "It wasn't that easy. We found the Slytherin locket, but nearly got caught. Harry could have found it earlier at his godfather's house, but someone stole it, and then Umbridge stole it from him. And we had to break into the ministry and steal it from her. Then we had to destroy it. And it took us until we obtained the Sword of Gryffindor before we could destroy it."

"The sword of Gryffindor can destroy these horcrux things?"

"Well, only because it was instilled with basilisk venom after Harry killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets way back in our second year," explained Ron. "Then at the final battle, Hermione and I got some more basilisk fangs from down in the Chamber of Secrets, and we used one to destroy Hufflepuff's cup, which we had to steal from Gringotts, as it was hidden in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. Then Neville used the sword of Gryffindor to kill Nagini, Voldemort's snake was another horcrux. Oh yeah, the Fiendfyre that Goyle, or was it Crabbe, well the Fiendfyre that destroyed the room of requirement destroyed that horcrux."

Draco had to hide his awe in the truth of the story. Harry Potter had apparently done some amazing things at Hogwarts as a student during the first six years, which always irritated Draco because he rarely believed any of the rumours. But he was sure that Ron was telling the truth. Considering that he had paid the waitress earlier in the day to slip a certain potion into one of the mugs of beer he ordered for Weasley was easier than he expected, and the small amount of veritas serum that was added was working wonders at this time.

Before the evening was over, Draco had learned of all of the horcruxes, where they were hidden, and how they all were destroyed. Then Ron added one final important part of the puzzle. "It turns out, there was an accidental horcrux in Harry's head. Voldemort actually killed Harry in the Forbidden Forest, but Harry couldn't die, not when he had the Deathly Hallows, or at least they were all near him. Or something like that. Or maybe it was something about his blood being used int he ritual that brought old Voldemort back to life at the end of fourth year. But whatever it was, Harry didn't die, the second time in his life he survived the Killing Curse. And then he was able to defeat Voldemort."

Draco nodded and he recalled the story that his mother had told him about Potter not dying despite Voldemort hitting him with the killing curse in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. "So, if someone had actually found all of the horcrux things earlier, rounded them all up and destroyed them all, Voldemort could have been killed even earlier."

Ron was quite drunk at this time. "Yeah, I suppose so. But it's not like you can do anything about that now. A time turner can't take you back that far. And besides, we broke most of them at the end of fifth year. That was when everyone found out that Harry and Dumbledore were right, You Know Who had really returned."

"No, no a time turner can't do that," agreed Draco. "You know, Weasley, you will never have any idea how helpful you have been to me."

Ron now looked confused. "Wait, what do you mean?"

Draco had his wand drawn under the table, pointed it at Ron as he quietly stated, "Obliviate."

* * *

3.2

* * *

The following morning Ron was slowly waking up on the couch at his home. Hermione came by to check on him. Ron slowly began to sit up, and started to feel dizzy.

"Whoa," he says softly, realising that even his own voice was making the headache worse.

"Really, Ronald, you must stop drinking so much when you go out like that," said Hermione softly as she handed her husband a hangover potion.

Ron took it gratefully and drank it slowly, as tipping his head back made the room spin a little more.

"So, who were you out with this time? More of your Auror buddies? A young witch from the receptionist pool? I'm sure it wasn't Harry," added Hermione, "as I actually had him out looking for you at one point. He's the one who brought you home from Hogsmeade."

Ron shook his head slightly, which he soon regretted. "I was by myself, I think. I don't really remember anything from last night. But I think you're right, I really need to stop this drinking. And I probably ought to find Harry and thank him for bringing me home."

Hermione sighed and smiled slightly, hoping that finally Ron might make some useful changes in his life, "And you can just sleep on that couch for the next week while you consider if you will have any more of these nights," she added for emphasis on her displeasure with his behaviour.

* * *

3.3

* * *

Draco Malfoy was a busy man. He had his wife's father's import business to run. Without the business he would have been broke as the second wizarding war with Voldemort and the Death Eaters had destroyed what wealth his family had once had, and at one point it was considerable. Draco actually surprised himself with how content he had become living a much simpler life than what he was accustomed to when he was a young boy before heading off to Hogwarts. But the family business was not the only thing that occupied his time. He was grateful that his son was off at school so that he could spend his evenings and weekends unencumbered with his research into anything related to horcruxes, as well as other details of the war, and specifically about Voldemort.

Slowly Draco was working on a plan of what he would need to do to defeat the Dark Lord sooner in time than had occurred in his past. He also was working on a plan that would hopefully cripple the blood-supremacist movement as they clearly did not just disappear with the death of their leader. The foolish sheep didn't have any idea that their vaunted leader was a half-blood himself, the product of a near squib tricking a muggle into falling in love with her. Yet this half-blood became one of the most powerful wizards in history. So this blood-supremacy was clearly mere foolishness. Anyone looking at history with a careful eye should be able to see that, or at least Draco was telling himself that over and over.

Draco had spent years working for Greengrass Imports. One of the things he learned quickly from his father-in-law was that the business succeeded as well as it did because they were willing to work with muggles. So many things in the muggle world were cheaper and easier to come by. In fact, one thing that Draco learned about the muggle world is that many potion ingredients, including some of the rare items, could be more easily and more cheaply obtained through muggle contacts. However, he also was wise enough not to share his contacts and sources with those within the magical world, as there was no sense in giving up the clear business advantage his late wife's family had spent generations cultivating.

His research on certain details of the war, and specifically the defeat of the Dark Lord, was completed within six months of his dinner with his sister-in-law. Starting with plying information from Ronald Weasley, followed by research and obtaining some supposedly confidential files from certain departments within the ministry, Draco managed to piece together much of what really happened during his time at Hogwarts and during the last war with Voldemort. So it was with a certain level of personal satisfaction that he sent an owl to Daphne Greengrass Nott at the Department of Mysteries informing her that he was looking forward to his son, her nephew, coming home for the spring holiday that would coincide with the muggle Easter holiday.

* * *

3.4

* * *

Daphne Greengrass Nott had learned long ago that she was safer by working long hours as an Unspeakable. Even if it was for the simple fact it kept her away from her husband who proved to be not much more than a blood-supremacist snob who liked the old fashioned family ways, which included treating one's wife as nothing more than a piece of property. Daphne understood the old ways of pureblood families so she could hardly argue with her father when he presented her with the contract to marry the Nott family heir. It made financial sense when the family import business was struggling, mostly due to effects of the war. Daphne had always yearned to work in the Department of Mysteries since she was a young girl, so her father had managed to work in the concession that she would be allowed to continue her chosen profession, however her father was unable to remove the stipulations against murder or divorce so she knew she would be tied to the arrogant man. And once he inherited what was left of his family's wealth after the war ended, Theo would be comfortable and never have to worry about fitting into a society that was leaving the old ways behind. In fact, she had become quite convinced of her husband's involvement in the blood-supremacist movement as she had even witnessed some of his meetings with his like minded friends from other members of the Sacred Twenty-eight. Daphne was not blind to the fact that those meetings of this group were suddenly moved from her home to the home of Lawrence Selwyn, and that this change occurred several months before the death of her sister two years previous. Her brother-in-law had tried speaking with the Aurors and other members of the DMLE about the mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of his wife at that time, but she was not surprised that he never had any success as after Harry Potter had stepped down as the head of the auror office five years before that, other members of the Sacred Twenty-eight found their way into the DMLE office, and one of the Flints and one of the Averys were soon in positions of power within the department.

Theo Nott was abusive enough towards her that he even caused her to miscarry the only baby she had ever conceived; however, as she had actually conceived a potential heir, she had fulfilled part of the marriage contract. While the archaic contract specifically forbid any infidelity on her part, the contract actually had a provision that allowed Theodore Nott to take a mistress, or mistresses. Once he started having his supposedly discrete affairs, life actually became a little less problematic for Daphne as he was less abusive to her — at least physically and emotionally. And she soon learned that he did not mind her long working hours as it gave him more time to engage in his little romps with young and impressionable witches. She was fairly certain that more than one young woman had borne a child for him, and she assumed that he would one day claim one of his bastards as an heir. But that was not to happen until after any of his supposed offspring had graduated from Hogwarts and proven themselves in magical ability as well as proving that they had a cunning mind. So, her marriage was sham, at times a violent sham, but for the most part she was not interrupted as she continued her research into time travel.

As it turned out, her good fortune in this endeavour was in part do to the man she had secretly admired from afar, and in part due to her starting off on the wrong foot with a supervisor when she first began to work at the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. Daphne had a run in with an Unspeakable who witnessed some of the problems within his own department during the times of the wizarding wars, and he himself came from a line of half-bloods, and would never be considered a pure-blood by anyone's standards. So when he had a new employee working under him who was a former Slytherin while at school, and one who was from one of the Sacred Twenty-eight families, he assumed that Daphne was just another pure-blooded bigot.

Daphne recalled the day she was told to meet up with Jason Cobbe, her supervisor. Once she was introduced to him, his eyes narrowed and she could tell she was in for some difficult times with the man.

"Do I have a job for you," he had said to her with a sneer.

Cobbe had lead her to a room that was off to one side of the spinning room. He brought her in and there was a few bookcases with a mess of broken objects in several bins, as well as a large glass container with some oddly sparkling dust.

"This is the former time-turner room," he had said. "The great Harry Potter and his friends," he added derisively, "saw fit several years ago to break into this department. Now while I have been told it was all part of the struggle against the Dark Lord, he and his friends were responsible for the destruction of the time turner collection. Very few remained in working condition after that night."

Daphne eyed the various items on the shelves and on the dusty table. As she inspected the items, Cobbe continued to explain, "Your first task will be to sort through all of this. The time-turners were made many years ago. At the time they were created, one of the Unspeakables was concerned about the effect they could possibly have on the magical world, so he destroyed all of the research on how to make the time turners. Now we have the unique situation where we have various components and we can begin research on to how the time turners actually work. Or should I say, _you_ can begin this important job."

He then turned and left Daphne alone in that room, smiling to himself, assuming he had given her an impossible task to complete.

That was over fifteen years ago, and Daphne had turned that old abandoned room into her office and work space. And she had been left alone to work on this project. And she had made incredible amounts of progress, not that her supervisors actually understood what she had been doing. She had managed to reconstruct one time turner, however it was quirky and would typically not bring anyone back in time more than a few minutes. As she had actually reconstructed one of the devices, however faulty it worked, Cobbe and even his successor felt it was fine to leave her to her work. She had occasionally been temporarily assigned to other projects, and her magical skill and her incredible fund of knowledge and insight had helped many of her colleagues, and she had earned a reputation as a team player, even if most of her time she was isolated working on time travel and related theories.

So, when she received the owl from her brother-in-law, she smiled to herself, as she had finished running several calculations and rechecking the intricate arithmancy involved in predicting just how time travel of years, as opposed to minutes or hours could be achieved. She had not had much success in identifying the magical time travel dust that had spilled from the dozens of destroyed devices, but she had been able to discern enough information that she was confident that her new device would be able to propel someone back in time, at least 25 years, possibly even as much as 30 years.

* * *

 **AN: and we will continue in 2018 with the next chapter -**


	4. Chapter 4 - Back In Time

**C4 Back in Time**

Draco Malfoy stumbled slightly as he stepped though the portal. He was still in the cellar of Greengrass Imports, but as he turned around, there was no portal doorway behind him, and his sister-in-law, Daphne Greengrass Nott was not standing there. "Well, Merlin's beard, the damned thing worked, and it didn't kill me. Now to find out how far it sent me back," he said to no one but himself. He wondered if he arrived at the same time that he had left, and quickly cast a charm, and saw that it was one thirty in the morning. He looked around the room, he noted that there was not much stored down where he was, but he was familiar with the entire building, and he had not needed to use the cellar as storage until well after he and Astoria took over running the import business. Draco then decided to make his way out of the store, careful not to trip any of the security measures that he had learned about from his father-in-law. He made it to an alleyway behind the store and then made his way towards Knockturn Alley, knowing that he could find some useful assistance in one of the shadier establishments there. As he walked down the alley, he entered a pub and he noticed there was a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet on a counter. He picked it up, asking one of the men seated nearby if this was the latest edition, to which he received the growled response, "If it only has more stupid business about that arse Fudge improving the quality of imported cauldrons so they won't blow up making potions, then it probably is."

Draco picked up the paper and saw the smiling face of Cornelius Fudge capped by his trademark green bowler hat, holding a shiny new cauldron with some unnamed dignitary with silver and blue robes. Draco glanced up at the date and noted that it was March 3, 1986. He smiled slightly realising that he had just travelled back in time 33 years. Cornelius Fudge apparently was still working for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, still marketing on his renown for having been present at the arrest of Sirius Black. Draco tucked the paper under his arm and left the pub, wondering if there would be important and potentially useful information in that particular edition of the Daily Prophet, but he highly doubted that it would.

Two doors down in the alley, Draco found what he was looking for. He walked into the darkened establishment and knocked his hand on the counter. After repeatedly knocking there was eventually a stirring in the back and an old hunched wizard stepped out from behind a curtain.

"What can I do you for?" muttered the old man.

Draco had his hood drawn obscuring his face in the poorly lit room. "You can help me create some special papers, identification and the such."

The man eyed the stranger in front of him warily, "Now why would I do that? Aurors are all over the place and that is just the sort of thing that could get a man sent to Azkaban."

"Now, now, Mr. Summers," Draco replied quietly, "we both know that there are no Aurors anywhere near this alleyway. And we both know that you are one of the more skilled forgers there is, despite your barely being able to have graduated from Hogwarts all those years ago. While your own magical skills are limited, the ones you have are most useful for a man in my position."

Summers raised an eyebrow. "And how is that you know anything about me, and I know nothing about you?"

"You don't want to know the answers to either of those questions," Draco stated simply. "However, once we conclude our business, you will have an extra 200 galleons, and I will have the documents that I need."

Another eyebrow was raised. That was twice his usual price. "If these identification papers are so important, then I need to be sure they are even above my usual standards of work. 300 galleons will be the cost."

"350 galleons with the special conclusion to the deal that you offer, shall we say, certain clients," replied Draco.

Summers realised that he could have probably gotten away for asking for more if the man in front of him was so quick to accept the deal and he even knew about the special guarantee for safety. "Just fill out these forms, desired name, desired birth date, desired records. Now, certain records may take a little extra time to arrange to be fully put into place. That's the reason for the extra cost. Especially on such short notice."

"You have 1 week, no more," stated Draco as he completed the information. "I will be back in one week and I will expect everything to be ready."

"It will, mister…" Summers left his statement hang between them.

"O'Malley," replied Draco. "Dr. O'Malley." Draco then pulled out a document. "All of the information you need to create the appropriate papers are here. I will even leave you a deposit of 200 galleons to help you make sure that the appropriate confirmatory documents are completed in a timely fashion."

Summers was not used to being paid so much up front, nor was he used to a certain lack of clearly described threats. Those two issues had him more concerned than usual. But he reasoned that this would be one of his more lucrative deals, so he dared not to question his new customer.

"One week," stated Summers quietly as he slid the galleons off of the counter and into a pouch.

Draco nodded and left abruptly.

Draco had little he could do in this time line until he had his new identification papers, so he simply checked into a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Paying up front in gold galleons for the room allowed him to get a room and food and have no questions. Only minor glamor charms were used to disguise his appearance so he would not look like he was related to the Malfoy family.

One week later, Draco arrived at the shop at Knockturn Alley shortly before midnight. He had avoided interactions with almost everyone so as not to arouse suspicion and to help prevent anyone from recognising him upon his planned return to magical England in a few short years as Dr. AC O'Malley. As he walked into the shop, Summers appeared quickly from behind the curtain, even before Draco arrived at the counter.

"I have all of your documents, Mister, or should I say, Doctor O'Malley," stated the magical forger.

Draco nodded silently and looked at the offered documents. Birth certificate, identifications, school records, both for an Australian magical school and for a Canadian Magical school. He placed all of the meticulously created documents into a satchel and then he looked at Summers.

"Is everything in order?" asked Summers.

Draco tilted his head slightly, "So it would seem." He then reached into a pouch that was around his waste and pulled at a pile of coins then he placed one hundred and fifty galleons on the counter. "This should just about complete our transaction," stated Draco.

Summers looked at the money on the counter and then back at Draco.

Draco smiled at him slightly, "Are you ready?"

Summers took a deep breath, nodded quietly, placed his hands on the counter and looked directly at the man who was now known as Dr. O'Malley.

Seeing no response to his question other than Summers' preparing himself, Draco pulled at his wand and pointed it at Summers' head.

"Obliviate," stated Draco calmly and a slight flash of light escaped his wand and connected with the man in front of him. Draco considered briefly taking back some of the money as Summers' memory of any interaction with him would be erased, but he decided against it, wondering to himself why he was actually being so noble. Then he spun around and made his way out of the building and away from Diagon Alley. He knew that there was little he could do at this time, as neither he nor Harry Potter were students yet, and the return of Voldemort was still years away. With a slight pop, he apparated away and began his trip to Australia.

A few short years later after making numerous public speeches about the history of magic and have a number of articles published in magical journals in America, Canada and Australia, Dr. AC O'Malley had been appointed as a professor at the Queensland Institute of Magic. His reputation as an educator and as a magical historian was growing in the English speaking magical world that was not crippled by pure-blood politics despite the apparent loss of a civil war to the more liberal minded magical people, for in England the Pure-Bloods managed to lose the war as the "light side" defeated Voldemort but the Dark Lord's supporters still managed to maintain much of the control of the society including prominent places within the Wizengamot and the Ministry of Magic. Draco was pleased that he was able to keep to his time table and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the magical media in England picked up on his story and he was still set on meeting his target of speaking in England in 1990 with the ultimate goal of obtaining a position as a professor at the very school that his younger self was about to start studying at.

* * *

4.1

* * *

 **March 2019**

Draco had arranged his meeting with Daphne after he received the message from her. He held the note that she had sent to him tightly in his hand as he recalled what she had written.

" _Draco,_

 _It is with a certain amount of pleasure that I am happy to inform you that my reminiscing on the old days has been beneficial. I have hope that the things I have learned should be able to bring me some satisfaction in the future, knowing that I cannot change my past. It is time for you to travel, and I doubt that I could make such a journey as you plan to embark on. Leaving in the middle of the night is often the time of thieves and those who seem to be running from something._

 _So many different thoughts come rushing to my mind. The things that I have been working on have given me hope. The hope is perfected in the idea of what things could be._

 _Perhaps the family business has been good to you over the years, you know that the offices of Greengrass Imports hasn't changed much at all since before I was even born._

 _I recall my childhood fondly, and as I recall, it was a Saturday evening, about 1 in the morning, that my sister was born. It was a little after 1 in the morning, I remember being woken up by the sounds._

 _But that is all I can think to share with you at this time. There is no time like the present, or so they say._

 _Best wished for safe travels,_

 _Daphne._ "

He took the meaning to be clear: they would meet at Greengrass Imports on Saturday night at about 1 in the morning. She was prepared to send him back in time, possibly to the time when Astoria was born. Either way, the message was understood that he would be meeting Daphne that night and he wasn't worried about someone seeing this message as it would be read as the babbling foolishness of a sad witch who mourned the passing of her sister.

Draco had been to the bank earlier that day, and he had emptied out most of the accounts. He had them converted to galleons, specifically into older galleons, ones that were marked in goblin years. The goblins thought that this was odd, as the Ministry of Magic had forbid the trading of such currency in the magical world, and only Gringotts bank or other goblin run businesses would even honour them. Draco had also procured a special multi-compartment trunk which he had filled with various items, including a wardrobe of older clothes, and the gold he had obtained.

As he stepped into his office in the back side of the building, Daphne was already waiting for him.

"Nice to see that you let yourself in," commented Draco dryly.

Daphne gave him a half smile, "You must have known that Daddy Dear would have always have special ways for family to come and go from the building."

"I wouldn't doubt that," responded Draco. "He was a stern man, a serious business man, but one who always cared for his family. I'm not sure that either you or your sister fully appreciated that about him."

Daphne ignored his comment, not wanting to deal with the emotions relating to her late father or even her late sister. "So, you were clearly able to decipher my message."

"As I am here, the implications are obvious," said Draco. "Not that it was terribly hard to figure out, although it would have been nonsense if read by someone else. I credit you for your ingenuity."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "I wasn't sorted into Slytherin and then accepted as an Unspeakable solely for my beauty."

"No, never for your beauty," agreed Draco with a smirk.

Daphne glared at him momentarily before explaining the process. She had developed a special array with runes marked with the time-turner dust. Once the preparatory spells were cast upon the array, Draco would simply have to step through the runic doorway and he should arrive in the past.

Draco had listened closely to her plans, and nodded in understanding. After a moment he then asked her, "So, what happens when I leave? Or more precisely, when I arrive in the past."

Daphne shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I have no idea. Well, actually, I do, but I am not sure which possibility will come to pass. There are two possibilities, or more actually. Chances are likely that I will have no idea if you actually managed to make it back in time. Because if you do, either you are not successful in anything you do, and time does not change. Or it does. Then, if it does, either this existence will no longer be and the me that is me will not be here. Or the other option is you create a new timeline, a new reality if you will, and I continue in this timeline, in this miserable existence, while my younger self is hopefully rescued from the future which I have experienced."

Draco paused for a moment. "But how will I know? I would hate to think that you are trapped in this life."

Daphne smiled briefly. "That's sweet, especially coming from you of all people, but there are still a couple of options. If it seems that you do not return to this present yet you have managed to go back in time and everything seems to be as it is, then I could try to travel back in time myself, or I could possibly be discovered by my supervisor for illegally arranging for time travel and all of my work will be confiscated and I could be sentenced to Azkaban or worse."

Draco sucked in a quick breath at her admission. "What could be worse?"

Daphne looked at him through half closed eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I work with Unspeakables in the Department of Mystery, trust me, there are _many_ things that could be worse."

Draco considered giving her a hug before Daphne set to preparing the device to send him back in time, and he knew better than interrupt as she completed the runes and began to cast the spells. Once she had finished the spells she stood tall and turned to face him.

"Everything is now ready, Malfoy," she stated simply, returning to using his last name to block any emotional reaction in speaking with him.

Draco knew better than to refer to her by her married name, and he gave her a warm smile. "You know, you were right about meeting here. We know what to expect in the basement of this building. Either your home or my home would have been too risky, not knowing what I would actually encounter when I arrive."

"I know," agreed Daphne, "I am the smart one here."

"Yeah, right," said Draco nodding slowly. "Well, then here's to a better for future. For all of us."

Daphne smiled thinly at his comment. "And perhaps a better past."

Draco once again considered giving his sister-in-law a hug, but he decided that it would be best to be sure to arrive in the past with all of his body parts intact, so he again stopped himself from stepping towards her. "Yes, a better past and a better future, and maybe you won't be so cold, and I won't be such an arse."

Daphne actually smiled at his words. "No way that is going to change. You will always be an arse."

Draco then raised his eyebrows and gave her one last smile, then he turned around and stepped through the runic doorway. There was a bright flash that filled the room as Draco disappeared.

* * *

4.2

* * *

Draco found himself in the basement of the Greengrass Import business. He proceeded to cast a tempus spell, and noted that he had arrived on a Saturday evening. He was relieved that he would not have to deal with anyone, as it was a weekend and the store was closed.

And so it begins, Draco managed to arrive int he past, and he then was able to arrange for his new identity. He had his new identity, his papers and he was on his way to Australia. Over the next few years he actually surprised himself with how easy it was to insert himself into the magical world and how little investigation there was into his background. It seemed that a quirky magical scholar who studied modern and ancient magical history was not considered a threat to anyone and everyone immediately accepted his credentials. Even the illustrious and world renowned Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore did not do more than a cursory review of his credentials. Which had easily led to his being present for the sorting of the new students on the night of September 1, 1991.

Draco watched amusedly as he saw his younger self, and his former friends and classmates and even Harry Potter get sorted. He wondered to himself at the length of time that Potter took to get sorted, that was something that he did not recall from the night he started school. Perhaps it was because his eleven year old self was still angered by the outright rejection by Potter as he accepted the friendship of the lazy blood-traitor Weasley. He caught himself thinking about Blood-Traitors and shivered slightly, recalling that his own family would soon be labeled as such. But for some reason, that gave him no fond memories or any inkling of compassion for the large clan of ginger magic users.

Two weeks into classes for the term and Draco had experienced his first faculty meeting. He returned to his office and sat down heavily and gave a loud sigh. "I can't believe that Snape actually tried to use legilimency on me during that meeting," he said out loud, knowing that there was no one who could hear him. "No wonder so many of the students in the other houses despise him. Stunts like that and he acts as if he wasn't doing anything rude or illegal."

He checked the time and saw that it was still early. The students were mostly off studying after finishing their evening meal. As it was a Tuesday evening, he knew they would not be at Hogsmeade, so he decided that he would make his way down there, as he had no intentions of socialising with his former professors. The image of a loner and quirky professor was one that he was more than happy to cultivate. Less questions from the other faculty, less problems as he worked on completing his tasks in this new timeline.

* * *

4.3

* * *

The other faculty had left Dumbledore's office, leaving just the headmaster and his potions professor.

"So, Severus, tell me, what did you discover during tonight's meeting?"

Snape grunted slightly. "Quirrel is clearly not the same person who used to teach muggle studies. He is nervous, even in the faculty meeting, rarely making eye contact with anyone. It seems to me that he is not fit to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Ahh, yes," stated Dumbledore with a fatherly tone, "Quirinius did report that he ran into some difficulty over the summer holiday. He had a trip throughout Europe, looking to gain more practical skills to aid him in his new position. I do recall that he mentioned he had a bit of a surprising setback at one point, possibly when he was in Albania, or was it in Morocco? He did travel all around the Mediterranean. He even described learning some new medication techniques, and somehow that was all linked to his newly acquired headwear. The turban seems to be quite the fanciful addition to his wardrobe. Although, I don't think I would ever choose to wear such a thing."

Snape rolled his eyes as he tried to get that image out of his mind.

"And what of our new history professor?" asked Albus. "Did you learn anything about Dr. O'Malley?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders. "His passive occlumency shields are above average, that is most definite."

Albus frowned, "So you were unable to learn anything about the famous scholar from Australia?"

"Not at all," corrected Snape. "While he does have formidable shields, I did not state that I was unsuccessful." He sneered slightly before continuing. "Dr. O'Malley is an angry man. That much is certain. What he is angry about, that is kept well hidden. He is bitter yet he has a quiet determination."

"Is he a danger to our staff or our students, or any of our plans?" asked Dumbledore who was now a little concerned that he had not used more of his own legilimency skills when he first met the professor.

"I do not think so," added Snape. "He is determined to be a successful history professor, in fact I even was able to detect a clear desire to change the magical world through his role as a teacher."

"Well, that is most reassuring, and quite honourable," acknowledged the headmaster. He sat quietly in thought for a moment before he added, "Minerva did comment to me just the other day that Dr. O'Malley is quite serious about assisting in reconciliation among students who have had disagreements. Even between your godson, Draco, and young Harry Potter."

Snape grunted at the suggestion. "I see no reason to pacify that arrogant fool! He's just like his father!"

"But Severus," replied the headmaster, "we must do what we can to give your godson every chance at redemption. Draco does not need to grow up to be like Lucius."

"I was talking about Potter," growled Snape.

Dumbledore straightened himself as he stared at his potions professor. "I have seen nothing that would indicate that Harry is either arrogant or in anyway, other than his appearance, in anyway like his father. His father was man with many good qualities."

Snape sneered at the comment, "And all of them seem to be lost on me." With that the head of Slytherin stood up and left the headmaster's office.

* * *

4.4

* * *

Draco walked into the Three Broomsticks and made his way to a secluded booth in a corner. There were not many customers present this night and he was much relieved to see that. He pulled out his satchel and starting reviewing some parchments and adding notes to them. Notes about his plans for affecting the future, his new future. Daphne had given him instruction on a spell that would keep whatever he was working on undecipherable to wandering eyes so that any of his note taking about current events and how things were changing could be kept secret from prying eyes.

He was interrupted from his work by a woman's voice. He looked up and realised that someone was asking him what he would like to have. He hastily ordered a butter beer when he realised that he was looking into the eyes of the woman who ran the establishment, Madam Rosmerta. He smiled briefly at her and then returned to his work.

Madam Rosmerta was a little put off. Most male customers did not ignore her, that much she knew. She wasn't being vane or conceited, but she did know that her looks would easily draw more tips and that many of the men and even boys would ogle her while she worked. She had gotten used to it over the years that she had worked her, since the late sixties, shortly after she had graduated from Hogwarts. Many of her customers assumed that she worked here because she was not skilled at magic, however that was far from the truth. She was quite adept at magic, a skill that stopped many a fight in her establishment and allowed her business to be run smoothly. But she was definitely not used to receiving a brush off or being ignored by a customer. She walked back to the bar and considered that this new customer, for she knew everyone who came into her tavern, may have just been busy with whatever it was that he was working on. She then asked one of the other waitresses to bring the stranger his requested butter beer as she went to check on her few other customers.

Two weeks later, Madam Rosmerta was puzzled and a little intrigued. Her new customer, whom she quickly learned was the new professor for History of Magic at Hogwarts, had been showing up almost every night, he always ordered one butter beer, and nothing else, and he always was busy at work on his papers. And never once did he ogle her. In fact, she was convinced that anytime he caught sight of her he would quickly look away. He never leered or acted like a love sick puppy, but more like someone who was embarrassed about something. This had become obvious enough to her, a witch who prided herself in her ability to read her customers, so that she had decided that she needed to learn just what this man's issue with her seemed to be. Which was what lead to her sliding into the bench opposite the professor in his booth this particular evening and staring at him.

Dr. AC O'Malley was busy reviewing his parchments when he realised that someone had sat down at his table. In the couple of weeks that he had been coming here as a place of solitude he had never had anyone join him, a fact that had made him feel more comfortable with returning to the Three Broomsticks regularly. As he looked up he suddenly found himself staring into the eyes of the one person he did not want to have any contact with while he was at the Three Broomsticks. In fact, she was the reason why he almost gave up the idea of coming here at all.

Madam Rosmerta smiled at the professor across from her, especially as she noted he had a very uncomfortable look come across his face. "Okay, mister, O'Malley is it," she began, "I really must pry, what is it with you?"

Draco was caught off guard. He looked around the room and then back at the proprietor sitting across from him. He rubbed his chin as he formulated a response. "Excuse me, but how do you know who I am?"

She laughed at his question, "There are not many new professors at the school and I am quite well versed on who comes and goes from my little tavern, so it was quite easy to learn who one of my new regular customers is."

"Oh, yeah," mumbled the history professor, "that would make sense."

"Of course it does," she added with a larger smile. "But that still does not answer my question. What is it with you?"

AC looked around the room once again and looked back at her a little confused. "Excuse me? Have I done something wrong? I do try to keep to myself when I am here."

Rosmerta laughed once again, this time a little quieter. "Right. You're the perfect customer. However, I have also noted that you are the _only_ male who doesn't even look at me. In fact, you avoid looking at me as much as possible. Have we met at some time in the past and did I do something to offend you? Because I really get the feeling that you are upset with me about something. Which then makes me wonder just why you come here every night, or almost every night."

AC moved his hand to rub his forehead. He let out a deep breath that he was holding while the proprietor was telling him that she had noted he seemed to be ignoring her. Then he looked up at her, unable to hide the embarrassment from his face. "Have you ever, uh, ever had the sensation that you met someone before? It's just that something about you reminded me about someone I knew when I was younger, much younger." He shifted slightly in his seat due to his discomfort, but then he continued. "So, yeah, you remind me of something I did once, something I am not proud of."

Rosmerta's shoulders relaxed at seeing and hearing the obvious discomfort in the man sitting across from her. Then she smiled slightly at him. "Well, I don't recall anyone like you doing anything to me that I would be upset about, and you said you remind me of someone else that you did this thing to…"

AC nodded to indicate that he was following what she was saying.

"So, here's the thing, you're obviously upset about this thing that you did and I gather that you aren't able to find this person and apologise to her," continued Madam Rosmerta. "So, since you are reminded of her when you see me, why don't you just apologise to me, and consider it all even."

AC shut his eyes as he considered her words and once again ran his hand through his salt and pepper beard. He looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I could try that, but apologies have never been my strong point."

Rosmerta smiled at him once more. "No one said it had to be perfect, it's for you anyway, it's not for me."

AC had many thoughts run through his mind at her words and internally was cursing himself for his actions as a youth all those years ago. It made him realise he needed to reach out to his younger self to hopefully help guide him away from some of the choices he knew that he was destined to make. Then he looked back at Rosmerta who was still sitting across from him, waiting on him to speak, and still smiling sweetly at him.

"Well, okay then, would you forgive me for hurting you, for causing you to do something that you didn't want to do, for my hurting you and others?"

Rosmerta could see the pain behind his eyes. She didn't even try to figure out what it was that he had done to some unknown witch when he was younger, but considering the sincerity she could hear in his voice and the struggles he had in facing her, she did the only thing she could in response to his confession. "Of course I forgive you, mister, or doctor O'Malley. Or should I say AC? That is what you go by, I hear, AC."

AC leaned back into his chair and let out another breath.

"Now, that wasn't too hard, was it?" asked Madam Rosmerta.

"You don't know the half of it," he stated solemnly.

"But I don't need to," she added, and gave him her smile once again. "So, how about you and I start over and you stop avoiding me?"

AC nodded, "I suppose." He then held out his hand, "Hello, Madam Rosmerta, is it? I'm Dr. AC O'Malley, professor of History of Magic at Hogwarts."

She beamed at him as she shook his hand. "It's a pleasure," she replied. "Please feel welcome to come here anytime, to enjoy a meal, a drink, or find a place to do your work away from school."

She gave him a wink before she stood up and walked away from the table.

AC looked down at his papers on the table which magically had become indecipherable while she was sitting there with him. Slowly the writing became clear as he put the papers back together and placed them back in his satchel. As he made his way back to his quarters at Hogwarts he felt lighter, he felt more at peace with himself than he had in years.

* * *

 **AN: I will be referring to Draco who has travelled back in time as AC from now on so as to make a distinction from his younger self in the story. Hopefully this isn't confusing. Yes, I changed it in the middle of one scene — which was the first major time in the story that he needed to be referred to as AC (from my perspective as the writer)**


	5. Chapter 5 - First Year Issues

**C5 First year issues**

By mid September, Professor AC O'Malley was getting more comfortable with the direction he was leading the History of Magic classes, particularly for the first years. His classes were different from many of the other subjects as that all four houses were taking the class at the same time, due to a special request that O'Malley had made when he received his appointment as professor. He had known that to affect change on the magical world he would need to work the most with the younger students. He worried if he should have come back in time a little sooner to try and have more of an impact, but he wanted to maximise his chances for having an influence on his younger self and his classmates, the ones who would be called upon to play major roles in the upcoming war even if they did not realise that.

AC had decided to focus on explaining muggle advances in science and technology. He had been reviewing multiple different topics when a student called out in one of the second year classes. A Slytherin of course, and he recognised the student, Avery.

"What does this have to do with the history of magic? Is this just fiction the muggles have made up trying to scare us?"

A number of the other Slytherins laughed at the comment.

AC was not deterred by the outburst, and he had several similar comments across all the years and from many of the houses. "There will be a connection, I assure you," explained the history professor. "However, you will need to be patient and you will need to use your mind to follow the connections. You will find, if you have not done so already, that this class is different. I will not simply write your lessons on a board and expect you to copy them. I will not drone on and on and expect you to take copious notes while you fight off regaining the hours of missed sleep you suffer because of who knows what activity. And I will just tell you to read the textbook. You are students, this is a school and I am actually attempting to educate you." He took a deep breath after explaining this to the class, and then he assigned the classes readings about the witch hunts in the 1600 hundreds in the Americas and in Europe. "And just because I have not assigned 10 inches of parchment, or whatever, does not mean you can ignore the reading. We will be discussing these events in the next class. And you all will be expected to be prepared and to participate."

The following week's History of Magic Class began with a review of the fear that muggles had of witches, and how that there were many things which they did not understand about magic and how that many of the people the muggles attacked weren't even magical.

In the first year class as this information was being reviewed, Theodore Nott spoke his thoughts. "But what does that have to do with us and with current day muggles?"

"They just would want to kill us if they found out about us," added a Hufflepuff student, Zacharias Smith.

O'Malley stood up and shook his head in response to the comment made by Smith. He walked back in forth in front of the classroom as he began to explain some things to the students. "While it is not unusual for those who are different, for those who do not understand others that animosity might ensue; for distrust to lead to misunderstandings. These misunderstandings all too often can lead to conflicts, and sometimes even war. We can look at our own history of goblin rebellions to see the truth of this. We can look to recent muggle conflicts, the world wars that occurred in Europe earlier this century. We can also look at problems with race relations, South Africa and Apartheid for instance, we can look at the United States and their issues with equal rights, discrimination, and trying to get equality for those of African decent."

Parma Patil then asked, "Why is there an issue over there?"

O'Malley sat on the edge of his desk as he tried to answer her question. "Race discrimination is based on the belief that those of different skin colour must be inferior or at least treated as tough they are inferior. This we know is foolish, but it has lead to much violence, strife and injustice within the muggle world; and not just in America, but perhaps more noticeably there."

The professor let his words sink in for a moment before continuing, "When we discriminate against those without magic, or those only with recent magic in their family, the half bloods or the muggle born, we are no better than those who discriminate based on skin colour."

"But they are not as skilled as we are," protested Pansy Parkinson.

Professor O'Malley raised an eyebrow when he realised who had spoken out. "Are you so sure? Are you questioning the skills of those without magic, or those whose family lineage does indicate they have had magic for generations? Have you seen an airplane fly through the sky? Have you seen trains and automobiles? Those things are based on muggle technology and muggle inventions."

"But we don't need those things to travel," argued another student, and O'Malley noted it was Ronald Weasley.

"Has a wizard or witch ever been to the moon?" O'Malley asked the class.

Young Draco spoke up, "No, but neither has a muggle."

The professor laughed slightly at the response. "Oh, but they have. They have rocket ships, they have amazing things. They also have dangerous things. They have weapons that we can't stop."

"But we have magic!" countered Nott, speaking up again.

O'Malley smiled as he appreciated how these students so predictably directed his own class where he wanted it to go. "How accurate are you with casting a spell across a room? How about across the courtyard? Across the Black Lake? From here to London? From here to America? The muggles have weapons that can be sent that far, and they can be sent accurately."

Vincent Crabbe spoke up now. "But we can shield against them."

"Wrong," stated O'Malley firmly. "We can shield against magic, but not against bullets, not against missiles, explosions, or even worse, nuclear weapons."

"What are new clear weapons?" asked one of the students.

"Nuclear, the science behind these weapons is far beyond anything we will learn here at Hogwarts," said O'Malley, "but to explain simply, one such weapon can destroy an entire city. Even one as large as London. And it can cause damage that makes hundreds of thousands if not millions of people sick in addition to the many thousands or possibly millions that can be killed. And the aftermath will make the land uninhabitable."

"But why would they make such a weapon?" wondered Hannah Abbot.

"The answer to that is, sadly, quite simple," replied the professor. "Fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of those who are different."

"But we shouldn't fear the muggles?" wondered a now confused student from Ravenclaw.

O'Malley eyed the class carefully before he went onto answer. "One on one, probably not. Even if there was a magical versus muggle war, locally, the magic users might have an early advantage. But do not be deceived, the muggles would not lose, not until they lost everything. They would destroy us if they felt they were being forced into a corner."

"But that is why we are superior," claimed Lavender Brown.

O'Malley raised an eyebrow at her outspoken comment. "Are we? There _are_ those who would wish to destroy the muggles. While you may not interact with them personally, without them, our economy could not exist. We need to use them for many of the things we have and do. There are plenty of businesses within our society that work in both the magical and the mundane or muggle world." He paused for a moment to let his latest pronouncement sink in. "Their lack of magic has lead them to do amazing things with technology while much of our society has stagnated."

Ron Weasley tentatively spoke up again. "But why should we change?"

"Some things need to change," replied O'Malley sincerity clear in his voice.

"The mud bloods, the muggle born want us all to change and become like muggles," argued Pansy once again.

"First of all, don't use that term," O'Malley corrected firmly. "Second why do you think they want us to become like muggles?"

"Because they think muggles are better," she stated, with a little less authority in her voice.

"They don't like our society," added Draco.

O'Malley tilted his head slightly as he listened to the arguments. "Let me ask you this, what do they know about our society?"

There was an awkward silence in the room.

So O'Malley answered the question himself. "Not much, because they really aren't taught about it. Then they are excluded from what they do not understand. What we have here, it is a different government than what they are used to. There are traditions and laws that they do not understand. Instead of telling them that they need to conform to a world they neither understand nor are they allowed to fully participate in, why not educate them about our world. Teach them about what we do and what we believe and why we do these things. Teach everyone why certain things are accepted, and why certain things are considered problematic at best. Allow the muggle born and the half bloods to truly be a part of our society and then we can all work together."

Hermione Granger and several of the half blood students were about to cheer.

"But they want to change everything!" protested Pansy, a little more vehemently.

O'Malley looked at her directly, and then he looked around the classroom. "Do they? Or do they simply want to change what they don't understand?"

As he asked his rhetorical question it became clear that time was over that class. As they students were putting their books away, one of the Ravenclaws asked if there was an assignment.

O'Malley smiled as he said, "The only assignment is to think on the things we discussed here today. No extra reading and no writing, but I do expect that you spend some time reviewing everything we discussed."

* * *

5.1.

* * *

AC O'Malley sat in his office as he reviewed his notes about Quirrel. He had learned only a little about the man from his discussions with Ronald Weasley before he travelled back in time. He was angry with himself for not picking up on the clear problems with the man back when he was a student. But then again, he told himself, he was a bit of an arrogant jerk back in first year. As a professor who was more observant of his students than he was as student paying attention to what many or may not be going on he quickly noticed that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were becoming more suspicious of Snape, which was not too surprising, considering they were Gryffindors and considering how the Head of Slytherin treated anyone not in his house, and Gryffindors received the worse treatment, and Potter himself was in his own special category for mistreatment. Then a message was delivered to him by one of the school house elves, requesting that he meet with the headmaster. AC rolled his eyes and closed his notes, magically securing them before he made his way to the headmaster's office.

When he arrived the gargoyle turned away upon his arrival without even waiting on a password. AC was about to enter the office when he overheard Snape complaining about Quirrel to Dumbledore, something about the other professor's behaviour.

O'Malley then entered the headmaster's office excepting to be interviewed about his classes. He hesitated, wondering why Snape is still there in the office when Dumbledore was preparing to review his classes with him.

"Is it usual for another professor to sit in on these meetings? I am new here, after all," continued O'Malley after his rhetorical question, "I guess I am not sure what to expect."

Snape sneered quietly and then left the office.

Once the door closed behind the potions professor, Albus Dumbledore apologised for not having Snape leave upon O'Malley's arrival. Then he began to explain his concerns with the new history professor. "Now my boy, I have heard some unusual tales about your classes."

AC raised an eyebrow as he made sure that his occlumency shields were in place. "Oh? Have the students found not being bored to sleep by endless tales of goblin rebellions to be too monotonous? Or have the discussions I have lead instead of giving lectures which keep the students actively involved in their learning been too hard on some?"

Albus shook his head no to both questions.

"Then what is the problem?" wondered O'Malley.

Dumbledore let his eyes twinkle before he smiled and simply stated, "You are covering a wide variety of material."

The history professor simply shrugged. "My goal is to make the students aware of why history is important, and to place that importance within the context of our world so that they can appreciate who we are as a people and how we arrived to where we are, here and now."

"That is most admirable," agreed the headmaster.

O'Malley tilted his head slightly as he added, "I thought that was what I was hired to do. Educate this children, not just simply teach them facts and dates."

"Yes, yes it was," Dumbledore concurred.

O'Malley then asked a question of the headmaster. "Then is there a problem? I do not believe that I am too heavy handed with taking points or giving detentions, especially in comparison to _some_ professors."

Dumbledore seemed to respond with nothing more than a simple hum. Then he spoke again, "On another subject, I understand that you have been working with several students closely."

"I hope that I can work closely with all of my students," replied O'Malley. "However, I presume that you mean my meetings with Potter and his friend Granger. And then there is also Draco Malfoy and some others in that year. They all have great potential that is perhaps untapped, or being missed by some of the other professors. They can all, and I mean _all of the students_ , learn from working together and not worrying so much about house lines and be more concerned with learning about the world they live in. Truly understand it, that's what they need to do. Today they are students. Soon _they_ will be the leaders, the decision makers, they need to be properly prepared for when that time comes. Understanding magical history properly will be the most important preparation for all of them."

Albus was pleasantly surprised to hear such robust enthusiasm for the future generation. "That is a unique and refreshing perspective, Doctor, or should I say…"

O'Malley could tell that Dumbledore was now fishing for more information about him. "AC would be fine. I choose not to use the name that the initials used to stand for. Personal and family issues, you see. History can be important, even on he familial level."

Dumbledore simply nodded in agreement, "That is very true, my boy."

AC felt that he was being talked down to by the headmaster, just as he always felt when he was a student here. "Will there be anything else, sir?" he asked, hoping to get back to his projects in his office, and masking the relief from showing up on his face when the headmaster smiled and dismissed him.

* * *

5.2

* * *

The following week, he was pleased that his students truly had come up with many more questions on muggle and magical history and how that may be affecting their world. He was thrilled that he was actually getting this group to think, as he knew it would plant the seeds necessary to get them to question the current pre-blood controlled system. The system that allowed the Death Eaters and the blood supremacists to run the Wizengamot and control their world without fear of real punishment.

AC decided that in response to many of the questions from the students that he would assign groups to work on a project. He was prepared to do this within each of the years taking History of Magic. He chose two students from each house, from each year to assign the work projects. In the first year class he picked Harry Potter and Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin, Leanne Jeffries and Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff and then Morag MacDougal and Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw. He told the class that the names were chosen at random, but he knew that there was deliberate reasoning actually behind selecting the group. He also chose similar groups within each of the years when he selected their respective project teams — getting a balance of pure-bloods, half-bloods and muggle born students, understanding that in the upper years they may have a harder time working together, but so be it.

In the first year class he called out the names of the eight students. He then assigned them a project to work on comparisons between muggle history and magical history. "You will have the next two class sessions to prepare for this presentation. If you need extra time outside of those two class periods, you will need to do it on your own time."

Ronald Weasley exclaimed "Wicked! We get time out of class!" His excitement over the idea of one less class for the next two weeks got the better of him.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and Malfoy scowled at him.

"Actually, Weasel…lee, Weasley, Mr. Weasley," began O'Malley stumbling over the old nickname he had for the Gryffindor student when he was a student, "not exactly. Those of you not working on this project will have a 15 inch paper to turn in on the benefits that muggles have to contribute to our society. It will be do in two weeks."

Others in the class glared at Ron until O'Malley added, "Do not blame Mr. Weasley for the assignment, I just had not gotten around to mentioning it before he spoke up."

The others grumbled quietly and then AC dismissed the class, other than the assigned work group. "The eight of you should start working on your project, after all, you only have 3 weeks to prepare your presentation. I understand that it is a wide open assignment, but that gives you all a fair amount of leeway. If you have general questions, feel free to speak to me about them. In the mean time, I expect you all to put aside your differences and work together on this."

The group then began to work on their project and started by discussing what for of things they wanted to discuss. Morag spoke up first about the need to assign each of them different parts, and then they should meet up together, perhaps in an unused classroom to review the progress they were making. Everyone quickly agreed to this idea and then set about arranging the times when they would meet. Hermione Granger bit her lip, realising that she didn't want to come off as being bossy and allowed the other students to help direct their project, hoping that would help her make more friends within the group.

Draco was torn between being irritated at being chosen to work with the group or looking at it as a way to distinguish himself. He had been trying to take Professor O'Malley's advice to heart and avoid outright hostility towards Potter, and he secretly wondered if this was some way that the History of Magic teacher was just trying to force him to get along with Potter or the others. In his frustration, Draco impetuously wrote to his father, complaining about his classes in general, and specifically mentioning his assignment from the new history of magic professor.

Two days later, Lucius Malfoy arrived at Hogwarts, looking for the headmaster to complain about his son's treatment at the school. Albus met with Lucius in his office and quickly summoned Dr. O'Malley to join them, as he did not want to offend this particular member of the board of governors, not that he didn't feel that he could handle Malfoy, but having this one concern dealt with prior to the concerns being raised to the level of the Board of Governors would clearly be better for everyone.

"This is disgraceful," stated Lucius, hoping to embarrass this professor. "He has no background that we know of for teaching here," continued the tall thin man with a sneer, obviously ignoring all of the documents that Dumbledore had prepared for the Board of Governors over the summer before announcing the hiring of Professor O'Malley. "This muggle loving backwoods hooligan should have no position here at Hogwarts," he humphed.

Lucius was trying to intimidate Dr. O'Malley, to either scare him out of his lesson plans or even to get him to leave the school altogether. However, AC O'Malley was not at all surprised by this turn of events, as he knew his father and he knew his younger self and he was not about to back down to the man who was his father, even if he didn't know it.

"I can appreciate the concerns you have, Lord Malfoy," began O'Malley, not waiting for the headmaster to interrupt. "The concerns of the pure-blood families must always be kept in mind. Learning the true meaning of what it means to be a pure-blood and what it means to be part of the magical world is my goal here within these classes. Perhaps my teaching style is novel, but I have actually been seeing that students in all years have been engaged in the discussions on the history of magic in a way that was previously not known here, or at least from my understanding of recent years here at Hogwarts."

Lucius quickly recognised that this new professor was not about to be intimidated by his actions and he was also trying to appease him, and not hide behind the coattails of the headmaster. This intrigued the man who felt he was able to manipulate others so easily. "You do offer a different perspective that is quite unexpected, Mr. O'Malley. These are important issues for our world."

AC nodded in agreement, "Yes they are, Lord Malfoy, however, I must get back to my classes that I am working with. Perhaps we can continue our discussion another time.

"That would be a good thing," noted Lucius especially when he detected that Albus would not be pleased by this development for the headmaster rarely would allow him access to the faculty at the school, which only made him more interested in inviting the professor to his home. "Perhaps you could join me at my home for dinner, with my wife and myself, sometime soon."

"I would be honoured to accept," replied Dr. O'Malley. Then he excused himself from the headmaster's office before he was dismissed.

* * *

5.3

* * *

Halloween had arrived and it was time for the annual feast. Harry was trying to not let the festivities get to him when he noted that Hermione was missing from the Gryffindor table. He started to ask others where she was and Lavender Brown spoke up. "Remember how Ron yelled at her after Professor Flitwick's class? He told her in the hallway that it was no wonder she didn't have any friends. We haven't seen her since she went off to one of the bathrooms."

Just then Professor Quirrel came into the Great Hall and announced, "Troll in the dungeons. Thought you would like to know." Then he appeared to faint as he fell forward to the floor.

The students began to panic and Dumbledore stood up and called out to everyone, "Please remain calm. Prefects, please bring your fellow students back to your House common rooms. Professors, please come with me and we will look into this situation."

As the students began to file out, Harry decided to break off the rest of the Gryffindors to try and find Hermione, which was not hard to do with all of the confusion. As he made his way towards one of the stairs he came near the Slytherins making their way towards the dungeons. Draco and Daphne both noted that Harry was heading in a different direction and gave him an inquiring look. Harry ran up next to them and they asked him what he was doing.

"Hermione was upset earlier by Ron," he began to explain. "She may be somewhere hiding and she has no idea that there is a troll on the loose."

Draco sighed at the thought but he reluctantly agreed to help. Daphne also decided to go with Harry to try and find Hermione. "Do you have any idea where she might be?" asked Daphne.

"Lavender said she thought she saw her head off towards one of the girls bathrooms," replied Harry, "probably not far from the charms classroom."

"That would be down this way," commented Draco as he turned to his left, Harry and Daphne close behind him.

The trio started to run down the hall, and took a right and then came to an immediate stop. They heard a loud crash from down the hall, from the direction of the girl's bathroom.

"Quirrel said that the troll was in the dungeons," shouted out Harry as he ran towards the bathroom.

"Stupid bloody Gryffindor," snarled Draco as he followed Harry.

"Stupid bloody _boys_ ," corrected Daphne, but then she followed them as well.

Harry slid into the girl's bathroom as there was water everywhere. One of the sinks was smashed and water was pouring out of one of the pipes. Harry ended up crashing into one of the sinks and landing on his back side. The crash and splash caught the attention of the twelve foot tall troll that was waving a club that looked more like a small tree due to its size. Harry noticed Hermione hiding in the corner of the bathroom on the opposite side from the entrance, with the large monster between him and his friend.

The troll started to make its way towards Harry and raised its club over its head. Harry cast the only spell he could think of and shouted out "expelliarmus" as he pointed his wand at the troll's club. Surprising everyone, the club was pulled out of the troll's hand and started flying towards Harry. Harry managed to dive out of the way just before the club crashed into him.

Draco noted that the troll was now turning to retrieve it's 'dropped' club. He then called out "wingardium leviosa" and pointed his wand at the club and then up into the air. The troll growled out in frustration, which distracted Draco and he lost his concentration, dropping the club which fell on the troll's head. Once again, the troll growled in frustration.

Harry, who had noted what Draco had tried, also called out "wingardium leviosa" as he lifted the club back into the air.

Daphne was worried that the club was still dangerous quickly cast the spell that she was best at, "trasnfiguro" she called out, hoping to mimic the spell of turning a matchstick into a needle. Being that the club was much larger than a matchstick, Daphne tried to force as much magic into her spell, which succeeded in transforming the club into a giant needle.

Meanwhile, the confused troll was trying to find the club and looked up into the air to retrieve it. As the club changed before its eyes, it yelled out once again. At this time Harry slipped on the water on the floor and his wand arm swung down, causing the needle to fall rapidly towards the ground. The giant needle flew towards the ground, point first, and pierced the troll's left eye. The troll let out a much louder as his eyeball was ruptured. In pain, the beast fell forward as it reached to hold its face. Crashing onto the floor the needle was forced even farther into the troll's skull. There was a final agonised scream as the troll's body convulsed briefly and then stilled.

Harry called out to Hermione who managed to scramble across the floor and retrieve her wand and then ran to the entrance of the bathroom and hugged Harry. Daphne came and gave her a hug as well, while Draco stayed back a few steps.

Just then, Professor Snape followed by Professor O'Malley arrived at the girl's bathroom.

Snape sneered at the scene in front of him. "Just like your father, Potter, causing trouble. You and Granger here have put people at risk. That will be fifty points…"

O'Malley interrupted the potions master. "No, Severus, I thought I noticed Potter and Malfoy and Greengrass come here together. Apparently they were aware that Miss Granger was here and unaware of the troll that was on the loose. Their actions show inter-house cooperation, and I think both houses should receive 100 points for their efforts."

As he was stating this, the headmaster arrived. "I agree, Professor O'Malley." He turned to the four students and asked them to explain what happened.

"It's all my fault, professor," proclaimed Hermione. "I was upset earlier, and I was sulking and feeling sorry for myself. I was hiding here in the bathroom because I didn't want to face the others in my house. The next thing I know, there is a troll crashing through the door of the bathroom and then these three arrived and saved me."

Dumbledore was investigating the carnage of the room when McGonagall and Flitwick arrived.

Harry then tried to explain, "I summoned the club away from the troll before he could hit Hermione with it. Then the troll went to grab the club and Malfoy raised it in the air with the spell that Professor Flitwick taught us today. He dropped it on the troll's head, then I raised it again with the levitating spell just as he had done. Then Greengrass transfigured it into a needle, like Professor McGonagall taught us to do with a matchstick at your first class. The troll tried to grab the large needle, I slipped on the water and the needle went into its eye. Then it screamed and fell in pain, landing on its face, and then it seized and then the professors arrived."

"Thirty points to Slytherin for an amazing use of the transfiguration spell," stated Minerva McGonagall.

"And thirty points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin for their use of the levitating charm," added Flitwick with a large grin on his face.

Snape seemed to snort in response to the points being awarded. "Perhaps we need to check other places for missing students, such as the third floor."

Pomona Sprout had arrived just as Snape was making his comment. "No, there weren't any students up there. I did see Professor Quirrel up there, apparently he was looking for students as well, but I think he muttered something about heading back to his office."

Severus Snape raised an eyebrow at this statement and his action was only noticed by Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore then asked for AC O'Malley to bring the four students up the infirmary to have Madam Pomfrey check them over to be sure that no one was hurt from the ordeal. After the students left with the history professor, the headmaster, along with the other faculty began to repair the damaged bathroom.

The next day the entire school had heard of the incident with the troll and how a group of first years had managed to defeat said troll. The four students who had achieved the sudden fame among all four houses for their actions tried to avoid the added attention which they were receiving. They were able to meet up with their study group for the history of magic, and it was there that they surprised to find that they were actually the most comfortable discussing the details of what happened. The eight students soon found themselves enjoying their time together, even the Slytherin and Gryffindor students were getting along better than simply tolerating each other. It was not long before the group was meeting regularly for studying for all of their classes and not just working on their assignment for Professor O'Malley.

* * *

5.4

* * *

 _Wednesday evening, November 6, 1991._

That evening found Dr. AC O'Malley apparating to a country lane, and walking up to an old iron gate. He rang the bell at the gate, and a moment later the gate opened up and allowed him to enter. AC was finding this experience more than a little odd as it had been a number of years since he last visited Malfoy Manor, the home where he had grown up. But now he was no longer known as Draco Malfoy, and while he did not want to give up his family heritage, he knew that he needed to follow through with the changes in events that would both help make defeating the Dark Lord easier when he was to return and to help prevent the blood supremacists from having their way within the magical world. Their ideas had cost him his wife, not to mention the hundreds of lives lost during each war and the potential for the utter destruction of the magical world if the muggles ever learned about them.

So, tonight he had been invited to dine with his parents, but he had his own motivation for accepting the invitation. When he arrived at the front door, a small house elf opened the door and showed him into the foyer.

"Lady Malfoy will be with you shortly," commented Dobby who eyed him carefully. "Has Dobby met master O'Malley before?"

AC was taken aback by the comment. He was surprised that a creature as simple as a house elf might actually be able to see through his disguise. And this here was Dobby, the very same elf who had been freed by Harry Potter all those years ago. He even rescued Potter and his friends from Malfoy Manor a few years later, even if he died as a result of the rescue. AC wondered how things would change if Potter did not have the chance to free Dobby.

"I don't think so," replied AC to the house elf who was bouncing slightly on his feet. "Have you ever travelled to Australia? Or have you been to Hogwarts this year?"

"No, no, of course not," protested Dobby. "Dobby has not left Malfoy Manor without the permission of master Lord Malfoy, or mistress Lady Malfoy. Dobby would have remembered if he had, for Dobby would have had to punish himself."

AC raised an eyebrow. "No need to get all excited. You have done nothing wrong and you do not need to punish yourself," he added reassuringly.

Just then Lucius arrived in the foyer. "Oh, it is a pleasure and an honour to have you here tonight, professor," he said haughtily. "Narcissa, my wife, is overseeing the finishing of our meal just now. Why don't we make our way to my study where we can have a glass of brandy while we await the completion of dinner."

"Sounds charming," replied AC as he followed Lucius to the study.

Lucius poured them both a glass of brandy into large snifters. They had just sat down to begin to chat when the chimes on the front door rang.

"Who the devil could that be," muttered Lucius, clearly irritated by the interruption but trying and failing not to show it to his guest. He stood up and made to leave the study. "I shouldn't be more than a minute while I go deal with this untimely distraction."

AC nodded with understanding and watched his father make his way to the front of the house. Once he had gone, AC began to quickly search Lucius' study in search of the small black book, the diary that belonged to a student named Tom Marvolo Riddle and was to be slipped into Ginevra Weasley's belongings next summer. However, AC understood that it was a very dark object, a horcrux, one of several that had been made by Voldemort in his quest for immortality. Easily bypassing the security measures on his father's desk, he soon found the cursed diary in a hidden compartment at the back of a large drawer. As he was about to remove the diary, he overheard his father raising his voice.

"Now look here Crabbe, and you too Goyle," stated Lucius, "I have no idea how or why you think you received an invitation to come here for dinner tonight, but I assure you that I sent out no such missive. I do, however, have a very important guest here and I would prefer to not keep him waiting."

There was a slight pause in the conversation and then AC heard Lucius once again. "No, I do not have a new house elf. No, I have no idea why someone would have sent either one of you such an invitation, but I assure you that tonight is not a good night."

There was another pause in the what was overheard from the foyer, and then there was the slamming of the front door. This new development nearly made AC jump. Just before Lucius arrived back into the study, AC had closed the drawer and stepped away from the desk. The diary, however, was still inside the compartment hidden within the drawer. AC told himself that removing the diary at this point would make Lucius much too suspicious, and that perhaps it would be better to retrieve it from young Miss Weasley next summer, or early fall at the latest.

"My apologies for leaving you alone," began Lucius.

"No apologies necessary, Lord Malfoy," said AC, waving of any further protests from his host. "I'm sure that with you being such a busy and prominent wizard that interruptions such as this must happen relatively frequently."

Lucius smiled a little too broadly at the easy and laid back response from the professor. "Your understanding is appreciated. And that is a skill that is all too often overlooked in these current days, especially among teachers at the school."

AC raised an eyebrow at the words from his father, but he did not respond.

"I am fascinated, however," came Lucius' silky words, "that a professor of your obvious intellect would even consider that those with of inferior breeding would be considered as skilled and proficient in the use of magic as those from strong family lines."

AC coughed slightly in response to the obvious barb. "Now, Lord Malfoy, you really must mind your words. I am a serious student of the history of magic, and I take our history to be a very important one. Now I must ask you to consider a simple fact. Think of the most powerful wizards, or even witches, that you know of, and I am sure there are quite a few that come to mind. Now, before you even mention any names, now consider the sacred twenty-eight. I am well aware that you know the families of which I speak. And the most powerful magic wielders of the past one hundred years, do the names Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Potter, Bones, Moody, McGonagall, or even Riddle fall on that list?"

AC did not give Lucius a chance to reply. "You know that known of those names are among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. You probably chaff at the idea of my even mentioning a few of those names, but you cannot deny the raw magical power that certain individuals within those families commanded. Some of the names may even be foreign to you. But before you protest, think of the names of some of the families among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, those that have kept their families pure-blooded. How many of those families are either nearly dead, such as Black, Crouch, Prewett and even Ollivander; whereas certain names, including Weasley, Parkinson and Slughorn font's exactly inspire fear or awe. Even some of the muggle born students have shown a particular aptitude towards magic that cannot be explained by the notions of pure-blood superiority."

Lucius frowned and even audibly grunted at the words of the history of magic professor. His mask of superiority and privileged indifference was slipping. "Even if those of tainted bloodlines actually possessed equal or near equal magical power, the half bloods and mud bloods seek to destroy our society, they seek to weaken us, to take our power away."

AC shook his head as he looked down at a spot on the floor between himself and his host. "No, Lord Malfoy, they do not seek to destroy our society, but they do seek to become a part of it. And the actions of the pure-bloods who continually try to keep them at bay, to keep them on the outside of pure-blood politics and tradition only make them want to tear down the traditions even more. Perhaps, finding a way to bring them into the magical world, not as outsiders being given a slight glimpse of something special, but as true members of the magical world, then your position as a leader and as a pure-blood lord might actually be more secure."

Lucius had to work to prevent his jaw from dropping in response to the outright disrespect which he was being shown by his guest, a mere teacher and a foreigner at that. His disgust with the ideas being brought forth was becoming even more obvious than before. AC could see the consternation on his host's face, and then quickly decided that this would be the most opportune time to make his departure.

"I do believe that my welcome here has come to an end at this point," commented AC as he made his way out of the study. "Perhaps I should show myself out," he added as he walked down the hall and into the large room with an active fire. Quickly grabbing some floo powder and calling out "Three Broomsticks", AC departed from Malfoy Manor.

Lucius was still stunned by the disarming manners of his brief guest to the point that he failed to notice that the professor simply made his own way through the manor to the only working floo.

* * *

5.5

* * *

It was a cool afternoon that the year's Quidditch season had begun, with the match between Slytherin and Gryffindor being played out on a Saturday afternoon in mid November in front of excited fans from all of the houses. AC had missed his time playing Quidditch as he grew older and he was curious to see how the day's match would play out, wondering if history would indeed repeat itself. The game seemed to him to be unfolding very much how he recalled that it having been played, that was until he noticed something unusual, but not with the game itself.

Professor O'Malley noted that there was a problem with the Quidditch match, or at least within the stands, when he saw that somehow Professor Snape's robes had been set on fire. This in turn caused Professor Quirrel to stop his mumbling and nearly fall over. Quirrel himself even glared at the potions master as the bustle of students scrambling away from the potions master and his flaming robes caused him to be knocked over as well. AC noted Hermione Granger making her way from the back of the Slytherin stands, and he found it odd that she was not with her house mates cheering on Gryffindor. AC turned to face the recovering Quirrel who was brushing off his robes from some imagined contamination and he decided to a quick bit of legillemency, a skill his godfather had taught him one summer, just before he had received the Dark Mark. AC was shocked by what he glimpsed in his all too short push into the mind of the stuttering defence teacher as he could have sworn he encountered two voices. Not wanting himself to be found out, he quickly ducked down behind the students in Ravenclaw where he had been seated.

AC pretended to be looking for something near his feet for a couple of minutes before he once again stood up, hoping that he had given himself plenty of time to be unnoticed by the mysterious Quirrel. Things were starting to make more sense, as when he had been able to get information from Ronald Weasley about his adventures with Harry Potter during their school years, Ron's recollections about the first year were shoddy at best, but AC was certain the Quirrel was somehow involved in all of the goings on, and AC had at least determined that somehow this all involved the Philosopher's Stone and the mysteries of the third floor hall that was locked.

AC made his exit from the game and decided to spend the remainder of the evening at the Three Broomsticks, as he had not been here as often in the past couple of weeks.

O'Malley felt exhausted after everything that had been going on between working with his students, meeting up with Lucius Malfoy, and trying to determine just what Quirrel was up to. He was sitting at his usual corner table, but he did not have his usual papers with him. He was idly drinking his butter beer when Madam Rosmerta joined him at his table.

"Hey there, stranger," she said as she sat directly across from O'Malley. "I thought you were giving up on me and my establishment. Did apologising to me on behalf of your mystery woman make you not want to come back here anymore?"

AC smiled awkwardly, "No, no, not at all." He then considered her words and then gave a more thoughtful reply, "Actually, I think that was a helpful thing you did. Maybe if the woman I had upset all those years ago heard my apology she might be able to accept it, just as you did. But it wasn't you that was offended, so, maybe she wouldn't really forgive me. That was perhaps too easy." AC considered that he hadn't really lied to her, as his younger self had placed the imperius curse on Rosmerta when he was in his sixth year, and that incident was still over five years away, so technically she was not _yet_ the person he had done that to.

Madam Rosmerta smiled at him, "Not when you are sincere. So, can you tell me anything more about what happened? I don't mean to open old wounds, and if you don't want me to pry, feel free to just tell me to shove off."

AC smiled. "I can't say too much. It was a difficult and confusing time for me and it was many years ago. There were things I thought I had to do, and the things which I did, I honestly thought they were right. Well, no, not really; I wanted to think that it was the right thing to do and if I went along with everything then it would all work out for the best. Well, it didn't work out, not the way I thought it would. And actually, I'm glad for that. Lots of people did lots of things they shouldn't have done when I was young. Some never learned their lessons I guess," he added as he took another sip from his bottle.

"But you did," observed Rosmerta.

Her comment startled AC for a moment. "Huh? Yeah, I think I did. But I feel like I'm still paying for mistakes. My mistakes and the mistakes of others."

Rosmerta smiled at him, her eyes wet with tears. "You know, AC, I am sure if whomever you offended all those years ago was to hear your confession and the sincerity of your words, she would forgive you. She would be moved by how much you have grown and how much you care." She reached out and placed her hand on his hand that was resting on the table and not holding his butter beer bottle. "That is a rare thing in our world. Particularly with so many things that have happened."

AC smiled at her uneasily. "Perhaps that might be true, but I will never know."

There was an uneasy quiet that settled on the table. After a minute Madam Rosmerta spoke again. "So, you don't have all of your busy work with you today."

AC smiled awkwardly once more. "No, not today, I'm just trying to take some time to relax."

Rosmerta felt as though he was putting her off a little bit, and she did have several other customers so she excused herself from the table. As she walked away AC shook his head slightly as he wondered if the proprietor of this establishment was actually flirting with him or showing genuine interest in him. He quickly finished his butter beer, left a large tip on the table, and got up and started to walk back to Hogwarts and his room.

* * *

5.6

* * *

AC laid himself down on his bed and stared at the ceiling of his small but comfortable room. He thought about Astoria and a tear fell from the corner of his eye. He thought about the fact that she was merely a nine year old girl who would be attending Hogwarts soon, but then he corrected himself, that wasn't his Astoria, but she would eventually be with the younger version of himself, as long as things worked out. He let another tear fall from his eye as he considered the past he left behind, and his son, Scorpius, whom he would probably never see again. His mind drifted back to a night before he travelled back in time, when he had arranged to meet with Scorpius' aunt.

November 2017

Draco was meeting with Daphne once again in the basement of the Greengrass Imports building.

"You know what I have said about meeting you here," she snapped. "Until everything is ready, I really shouldn't be coming here, I really shouldn't be seen with you. Neither of us want to antagonise my husband."

"Your husband can bugger off," replied Draco, not bothering to hide hid disgust for his former house mate. "But what I have to speak to you about is more important than him."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, it was unusual for Draco to react with such anger, even when discussing his brother-in-law. She waited patiently for Draco to explain himself more fully.

Draco shifted back and forth on his feet. "Well, I'm worried. I'm worried about Scorpius. I will be leaving as soon as this all gets worked out. And I will probably never see him again. I have no idea what will happen to him, to you, to any of this. But if nothing changes, or at least nothing changes for your existence, it wouldn't be right for him to lose his father without any explanation. It was bad enough when he lost his mother. And while I need to take my money with me back to be able to establish myself, I can't leave him with nothing."

Daphne was speechless, she had never seen Draco reveal any emotions so openly, not even after Astoria had died. "But what can you do?" she asked.

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature chest. "This contains all that I could spare. Also, it contains his emancipation, and the titles to all of my properties and this business. He should be able to make it financially. And hopefully he will be smart enough to know how to make what I leave for him into even more."

Daphne put a hand on Draco's shoulder to comfort him.

"Just take this to the goblins, and set up an account, one that no one else can access," Draco added. "Just, well, don't let your husband or any of the blood supremacists know anything about this. You can do that for me right? He is your nephew after all."

Daphne smiled at Draco. "Of course I will. I'll care for him as if he was my own son, but I will keep him away from my husband."

November 1991

AC lay in bed wondering what ever happened, or what will happen to Scorpius, or even to Daphne. He realised that he would never know. That idea left him feeling empty inside. He had been back in time for over 5 years now. Plus the few years that had transpired since Astoria had been killed before he traveled back in time, he realised that it was over 8 years since he had become a widower, a single man. While he could possibly change the world so that Astoria could have a long and happy life, he would not be cheating on her, not his forty something year old self, if he allowed himself to become involved with another woman at this point. He shook himself from those thoughts and told himself that he must really be overtired. He considered getting a dreamless sleep potion from Madam Pomfrey, but then he thought better about that, and it was only a matter of minutes before he had drifted off to sleep, with uneasy dreams.

* * *

5.7

* * *

Many of the upper level students were not enjoying their lessons on the History of Magic. For those who didn't want to have to work hard, this was a nap time that was taken away from them. For those who were very comfortable in their own notions about magical history and the proper place of pure-bloods, half-bloods and mud-bloods within their society, these new ideas were something they didn't want to have to hear about nor be tested on.

However, the study/work groups within the first and second year classes were seeming to have the desired affect of being able to break down some of the traditional walls between houses and blood statuses. AC was pleased to see that many of his assigned groups had continued to meet and to study together even for their other subjects. He was also pleased when he overheard some of the first years discussing Nicolas Flamel after they had spent some time visiting with the school gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. Over hearing one of the students make a comment about Flamel, AC made and innocuous comment asking some of the students if they had started collecting chocolate frog cards. Upon hearing this comment, Hermione immediately recalled that she had seen the name of Nicolas Flamel on Dumbledore's chocolate frog card. She had seen it as Ron Weasley had left a card on a table in the Gryffindor common room complaining that he already had several of the cards in his collection. Soon she was off to the library to research him even more, and the next afternoon she was prepared to share with her study group what she had learned.

"I tell you, Flamel is the one who created to Philosopher's Stone," Hermione reiterated. "That must be what all the secrecy is on the third floor."

"She's probably right," agreed Anthony Goldstein. "But what doesn't make sense is why would the headmaster have it here? And how did it get here?"

"That was probably what Hagrid had to get from Gringotts," commented Harry.

Wayne Hopkins looked at Harry doubtfully, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"When was Hagrid at Gringotts?" asked Morag MacDougal.

"When Hagrid brought me to Diagon Alley to get my school stuff," explained Harry, "we first went to Gringotts, you know, the bank. Well, I went to get some money so I could buy my books, and Hagrid stopped by some vault and retrieved some mysterious but small package. That was the same day that someone tried to break into Gringotts."

"Why did Hagrid bring you to Diagon Alley?" wondered Daphne.

"He was the first one to tell me about magic, and that I was a wizard," Harry admitted.

"But McGonagall is the one who brings muggle born to Diagon Alley," stated Hermione. "She's the assistant headmistress, its part of her job. She's the one who came to my house and told my parents that I was a witch. She was the one who first brought me to Diagon Alley."

Leanne Jeffries shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense that Hagrid would be the one to take you there."

Harry hadn't really thought about it all before. "Maybe it was because he had to fetch me from the island where my aunt and uncle had gone in hiding when the owls started to come by the house."

"What island?" asked Anthony.

Draco narrowed his eyes as he looked hard at Harry. "Wait a minute, Potter. You live with your aunt and uncle, and they're muggles?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "It's not like I had anywhere else to go."

"Only half of the magical world would have taken you in, Harry," commented Morag.

"I wouldn't have known anything about that," said Harry looking down, not wanting to dwell on his family. He then looked up and saw that everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to explain about the island. "Well, so, my uncle wouldn't let me read the letter that came from Hogwarts. I tried to look at it, it was even addressed to…" Harry hesitated once again. "Well, it was addressed to the room I stayed in at their house. So, you see, my uncle hates magic. Calls it freakishness. So when he wouldn't let me read or respond to the letter from Hogwarts, more and more owls started showing up. So they up and left. And then we went to this island, this house on this island, I guess he was trying to hide from magic and the owls. Then one night, Hagrid showed up at the house on the island. Thats when I learned that I was a wizard, like my mum and dad. Well, my mum was a witch."

The group sat in stunned silence.

"But Snape, Professor Snape," commented Draco quietly, not looking at Harry, "he says that you have been raised like a prince, with anything you could want. That you look down on everyone else because you think that you're better than all of us."

Hermione's jaw dropped. Then she burst out in protest, "How could he say that? He knows nothing about Harry!"

"Don't get mad at me," said Draco defensively, "I'm not the one who said it."

Everyone then looked at Daphne who was Draco's housemate. Noticing that all of their eyes were focused on her she finally nodded as she quietly added, "Well, he has made comments to that effect to the Slytherins."

Harry bit his lip in anger, stopping himself from saying anything further in his frustration. Morag reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "We believe you Harry. And we don't think any less of you for it."

Harry smiled at her despite flinching at her contact.

Hermione smiled as she saw that Harry seemed to truly be making friends within their group as she had learned that he was very much like herself, a loaner who had little to no friends growing up. She had found acceptance and friends within this group and she was glad to see that Harry was able to find the same things, or at least she hoped that was what she was witnessing.

* * *

 **AN: As this chapter has now reached over 10K words, I decided to finish it here. The next chapter will be about obtaining the Philospher's stone itself.**

 **2 points:**

 **1\. I had not intentionally planned to have Madam Rosmerta figure at all in this story when I first drafted it in my mind. Well, things change as I actually write…**

 **2\. I had initially planned for this to be short - at least compared to some of my other works - and only be about 10 chapters. Well, it looks like it is only getting more involved and detailed than I originally imagined…**

 **This will eventually be Harry/Daphne. But that may take some time to develop…**

 **Thanks to those who have read and reviewed. It is always appreciated.**


	6. Chapter 6 - The Philosopher's Stone

**AN: The original posting of Chapter 5 mistakingly had some of my notes for this chapter at the end of it — those were removed and have been expounded upon in this chapter. Sorry for the error and confusion with how the last chapter originally ended…**

Also, as a reminder, the 'study group' created by AC O'Malley with the first years included:

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger (Gryffindor)

Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass (Slytherin)

Leanne Jeffries and Wayne Hopkins (Hufflepuff)

Morag MacDougal and Anthony Goldstein (Ravenclaw)

Names and houses come from information on Harry Potter Wiki….and some creative license on my part…

 **Also, the expectation is that some of the same events occurred as in JKRs works, even if they are not expressly mentioned. Differences between that timeline and the current timeline in this story will be (hopefully) clearly delineated.**

* * *

 **C 6 The Philosopher's Stone**

* * *

Most of the school year had been progressing uneventfully and AC kept his eyes and ears open for evidence of either the group of first years trying to do something about the Philosopher's Stone, or for evidence that Quirrel might try and do something to retrieve it. He had learned that there were various traps set up to protect the stone, and these traps were created by several of the professors, specifically the teachers of the core subjects, most notably except for him. AC assumed that he was not included as he was a new faculty member and as such was an unknown factor in Dumbledore's plans. However, he could not understand the headmaster's thought process about putting such a valuable and potentially dangerous object in a school, and potentially in the grasp of supporters of the Dark Lord.

April brought spring in full force to Hogwarts, and it also brought the spring holiday as many students went home to visit family for Easter vacation. The first year study group that included Harry, Draco, Hermione and Daphne were all staying at school. They had agreed to get together on Saturday morning, as they were not old enough to head to Hogsmeade. They gathered in the classroom that they had been using for their study group meetings when Anthony Goldstein brought up the subject of the Philosopher's Stone.

"We're pretty sure that is what is hidden here in the castle, somewhere behind the closed third floor doorway," he said, as the others looked at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this. "So, not all of the students are here this weekend, and maybe we should do something about actually trying to reach the stone."

"And why would we want to do that?" asked a suspicious Draco.

Morag rolled her eyes as she answered him. "Isn't it obvious enough? The headmaster brought it here to keep it safe, and someone is trying to steal it, because they tried to steal it from Gringotts."

Draco leaned back as he folded his arms across his chest. "Again, why should _we_ do anything about this? It's not like we are all Gryffindors, blindly and foolishly charging in just to prove that we're brave. If the headmaster put it here, then it is probably safe."

" _Probably_ ," stated Hermione, "but not necessarily so. Something unusual is going on, we all heard Hagrid tell us a couple of weeks ago that someone or something has been killing unicorns in the Forbidden Forest."

"Then we can stay out of the Forbidden Forest," argued Draco, thinking that this was an obvious point.

"But what about the troll incident with Hermione back in the fall?" asked Harry.

"And someone trying to hurt Harry during that Quidditch game," added Leanne.

"Or the worried looks that Hagrid has about the whole mess," added Wayne.

"You all do whatever you want," said Draco, his tone clearly irritated, "but Greengrass and I won't have anything to do with this foolishness."

Daphne turned and looked at Draco with a stare that could have frozen him on the spot. "You don't speak for me, Malfoy."

"We're Slytherins, we need to stick together," he replied in protest to her glare.

"We're friends, all of us, and we need to stick together, whatever house we were sorted into," countered Morag.

Draco surveyed the group and he was surprised to see that they all had determined looks and were clearly disappointed with him.

After a minute of a silent stand off, Draco shook his head quickly and huffed. "Fine, fine, we can all be _foolish_ Gryffindors, we can try and find this stone and save it from the _mystery person_ who is trying to steal it right from under Dumbledore's nose and when we get caught, Granger's worst nightmare will come true as we all get expelled, which we all know would be _much_ worse than dying."

Hermione gasped at Draco's words, "That's not true, that wouldn't be my worst nightmare."

The group all turned to look at the young witch. She bit her bottom lip for a moment before replying, "Okay, it probably is _one_ of my worst nightmares, right after showing up to class without any clothes on."

Daphne's jaw dropped. "You would go to class without your clothes on?"

"You've had dreams about going to class without your clothes on?" asked a bewildered Morag, as she also glared at Draco for his comment.

Draco just shook his head, trying to get the image of Hermione without clothes on but attending classes out of his mind.

Hermione pouted and grumbled. "Everyone has dreams like that, it is supposed to be one of the most common dreams people have."

"Maybe among muggles," added Anthony.

"Where were we again?" asked Leanne.

"Before or after trying to get the image of a naked Granger in class out of our minds?" asked a snickering Draco.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at the irritating blonde Slytherin.

"Discussing why we should try and find the stone," added Wayne. "And I think it would be exciting to try and get the stone."

"When would we do this?" asked Leanne.

"Tonight, after everyone has gone to sleep," commented Draco.

The others stared at him in shock. "I thought you didn't want any part of this," commented Morag.

"Actually, I don't," admitted Draco. "But if you are going to do it, someone needs to make sure that you all don't get killed, _or worse_ , and someone needs to help you all pull it off. And if you are going to do it, the best time is when everyone thinks we're all asleep."

"But what about Filch?" wondered Anthony.

"He has a pattern for where he goes at night. We just avoid him," stated Draco.

Wayne was about to ask Draco how he knew that, but then he decided it would be better not to know.

"And besides," added Draco, "we've been working pretty well together as a team, so why break up the team on this one occasion?"

"So it's settled then," stated Morag, "midnight, the third floor corridor, and be prepared."

"Be prepared for what?" asked Wayne.

"For anything!" replied Morag, shaking her head as though it should be obvious to everyone.

As the group dispersed from their study room, Draco muttered, "Stupid bloody Gryffindors, the lot of them."

Daphne looked at her housemate and quietly commented, "But you're joining us, so that makes you one too."

"Stuff it Greengrass," said Draco, clearly annoyed, "it's bad enough already that we're studying with some of these students, and now to actually plan such thing as trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

"But think of the stories you can tell everyone later, even your kids," added Daphne.

* * *

…6.1…

* * *

Ten minutes before midnight, Harry and Hermione were meeting up in the Gryffindor common room, getting ready to make their way to the third floor hallway. They were startled by a voice from behind them.

"What are two doing?" asked Neville who was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, standing there in his pyjamas.

"We're going to do something important with our study group," stated Hermione as if the answer should be obvious.

"Yeah, we have a special study session," agreed Harry.

Neville's eyes narrowed as he looked at the two. "That doesn't seem right to me. I think you're up to something, and it will probably cost us points for the house cup. You can't do that!"

Harry shifted uneasily as he went to draw his wand, thinking of a way to hex Neville without hurting him so that they cold meet up with the rest of the group. Hermione placed her hand on Harry's arm, stopping him from pulling out his wand. Harry looked at her funny, wondering what she was about to do, when suddenly she spun around and placed a kiss on Neville's cheek. Neville blushed scarlet and put a hand to his cheek and nearly fell over from the shock of what she had done. Seeing his resolve waver, Harry and Hermione grasped each other's hands and ran out the portrait hole door, leaving their bewildered house mate behind.

Harry then pulled out the invisibility cloak which he had received at Christmas from an unknown wizard who had included a message that the cloak originally belonged to Harry's father. He had previously used it several times on his own, including the night he discovered the room that had the Mirror or Erised. Harry had even tried to find the mirror again, but the room where he had found it was strangely empty every other time he returned. After covering themselves with the cloak, the two Gryffindor first years made their way down the stairs towards the main entrance, when they heard the pattering of footsteps of a cat.

"That's got to be Mrs. Norris," whispered Hermione.

The two froze near the bottom of the stairs they were on and saw that Mrs. Norris, who was closely followed by Filch, was coming up a set of stairs heading directly towards them. Both of them held their breath, hoping not to be caught by the caretaker and his feline companion. Then there was a grinding noise as the stairs began to shift. Just before Mrs. Norris reached the top stair, the flight of stairs that she and her master were on started to shift to the left, while the stairs that Harry and Hermione were standing on shifted away from there. The cat hissed at the annoying magical stairs that interrupted her nightly stroll with her master. The two students stayed motionless as Mrs. Norris stared in their direction, almost as if she suspected something was amiss.

Argus Filch reached down and stroked the back of his cat as he muttered loud enough, "These stupid magical stairs bother me too, I'm sure that's what has you all riled up tonight." He looked up at the other stairs that were moving back and forth as he added, "Damned stairs. Too bad no students were here, they could have fallen off and been hurt." He then added a disgruntled "bah" as he turned and made his way down the stairs which he had initially been climbing.

After Filch and Mrs. Norris left, Harry and Hermione made their way up the staircase they were on and eventually doubled back another passageway so as to eventually meet up with the others, one minute after midnight.

"What took you all so long?" asked Wayne, who was clearly worried that not everyone would be showing up.

"We had to take a detour to avoid Filch," explained Harry.

"I could have told you where he would have been and when," commented Draco, "if only you had bothered to ask."

"Shhh," whispered Morag as she held a finger to her mouth. "We don't want to make such noise that we bring Filch or Mrs. Norris to us."

"Too true," whispered Anthony in agreement.

Draco shook his head and reached out and tried to turn the door knob to the forbidden hallway. When it wouldn't move, he let go and simply stated, "The door is locked, it looks like there is nothing we can do. So, goodnight, everyone."

"Alohomora," spoke Daphne as she waved her wand at the door. There was an audible click and she reached out and twisted the door knob and the door slowly opened. "Come on, Draco," she whispered, "we're in."

Draco frowned and started to follow the others into the hallway, only to walk right into Wayne Hopkins' back. He looked up as he was about to chastise the other boy when his eyes noticed the large three headed beast in the middle of the hallway. "What the…" his words dropped as he stared at the creature in front of him.

"It's a cerberus," explained Anthony.

"I know _what_ it is," snapped Draco trying to keep his voice down, "but how did it get here, and what is it doing?"

"It's apparently guarding a trap door," replied Hermione.

"And why would you think that?" asked an incredulous Draco.

"Look at what it's sitting on," commanded Hermione.

Then the three headed dog raised one of its heads to look at the group in front of it. It started to sneer when Morag tried to quiet everyone in the group.

"This can't be good," muttered Wayne.

"Shhh!" Morag said as she tried to quiet them all. She slowly reached into her bag and pulled out a flute.

Draco looked at her oddly, "Are you going to beat it with that metal rod?"

Morag glared at him. The three heads were all starting to snarl at the group of eight students. Morag then placed the flute to her lips and she started to play, a piece written by Mozart. The Magic Flute, to be precise. Within three minutes the snarling had stopped and the cerberus was beginning to walk around in slow circles, finally lying down just behind the large trap door which had originally been standing over.

Morag turned to her friends, "Now, he should sleep for at least 10 minutes, probably longer, so don't anyone make any unnecessary noises."

The group moved as quietly as possible down the hallway, and carefully lifted up the trapdoor. Looking down they saw a dark room. Quietly casting a lumos charm on her wand, Hermione lit up the area below them.

"It looks like it is about a ten foot drop," she whispered, "the floor looks funny, though, it seems kind of bumpy. It's dark, maybe it's rocks covered with moss."

"I'll jump first," offered Draco.

Then before anyone could say anything he jumped through the square hole and into the darkness. A moment later he called up, "The floor is kind of soft."

Wayne felt he had a little courage now so he grabbed the edge of the opening and lowered himself down. He landed next to Draco and lost his balance and fell backwards. The others all took turns jumping down, most of them slipping through just as Wayne had done. As Daphne lowered herself down she heard Wayne mutter, "What the bloody hell was that?"

Leanne then shrieked as something wrapped around her leg.

Daphne landed next to a screaming Leanne who was starting to jump about and scream louder.

Wayne then called out for everyone to stand still and be quiet. Leanne continued to struggle.

"It's devil's snare," called out Wayne. "The bluebell flame spell should repulse the plant and it will let go of us!"

By now there was a snarling sound coming from above as Leanne's screaming had awoken the cerberus. Leanne's screams stopped when she heard the snarls and looked up at the drooling heads of the mythical beast. She put her hand to her mouth and stood still, more out of fear than actually listening to Wayne's instructions. The Hermione, Wayne and Daphne all cast the bluebell flame spell and an eerie blue fire appeared around them all. The blue flame was not hot to touch, but it caused the devil's snare to withdraw from all of the students. They fell through the mass of plant tendrils onto the floor below.

Wayne reached out to Leanne to help her calm down, and her shaking stopped in a minute.

Anthony then pointed out that there was a door on one side of the room they were standing in and he walked up and grasped the handle. "It doesn't seem to be locked," he added.

Then he slowly opened the door and heard the sound of soft wings beating as though there was a flock of birds flying around the next room. There was a hallway that went down a slight incline into the next room which had a high ceiling. They looked up and saw a flock of odd looking birds flying around. Daphne then pointed at one of the flying creatures, "They're not birds, they're flying keys!"

Meanwhile Hermione noted that there was an old and rather large door on the far side of the room. She and Morag went to investigate the door and found it to be locked and the 'alohomora' spell had no effect on the lock.

Looking up at the keys Hermione sighed, "One of those flying keys is the one we probably need to open this door."

Harry then pointed out that there were several brooms against one of the walls. He and Draco each grabbed one and then started to fly about the room.

"How do we know which key to grab?" asked Harry as he was trying to grab a key but they all were flying away from him.

Draco grabbed a shiny gold key with red wigs and flew down to the door. He handed the key to Morag but the key wouldn't fit.

"Maybe we need to find an old key, as it is an old door," commented Hermione.

Draco pushed off the ground and took to the air. He and Harry started to slowly circle the room on their brooms as the keys seemed to swarm in the middle of the room.

"At least they're not attacking us," observed Harry.

"That sounds like something that would happen in a bad muggle movie," added Anthony. When Harry and Hermione both stared at him he then added, "Hey, my dad was muggle born, he would sometimes take me to the movies when I was younger."

"What about that one with the blue wings," called out Leanne. "It looks really old," she added.

Draco exclaimed "I see it!" and took off on his broom into the middle of the swim of keys.

Harry gripped his broom harder and soon found which key Draco was grabbing for, but it slipped out of his hand. Harry then sped into the swarm himself, not taking his eye off of the blue winged key. He had to swerve to avoid Draco right before his hand grasped the key. The key they were after, however, veered away from Harry and into Draco's outstretched hand.

The two landed their brooms near the door. Draco smirked slightly at Harry as he held the key that he handed to Morag who then opened the locked door.

"You both did great," stated Daphne, "I don't think any of the rest of us could have done that on the brooms.

Harry blushed slightly at the comment from the blonde Slytherin.

"Well, the door is open," said Leanne, "so we might as well press on."

The entered a large dark room which seemed to be filled with tall statues. The statues were arranged in rows and as the group walked between them a light from the ceiling came on and shown about them. The statues were then revealed to be giant chess pieces and they were standing in middle of a giant chess board. The group inspected the area and Hermione spied a door on the far side of the room. "That must be our way out," she said.

"Looks like we have to play a game of chess," suggested Morag.

Draco grumbled, "Who cares about playing chess?"

"Apparently we all do," replied Wayne.

"It shouldn't be that hard," added Anthony, "I play chess, and I know Leanne has played too."

"So, what do we have to do, climb on top of the pieces to make them move?" asked Harry.

Just then a white pawn from the far side of the board moved forward two spaces. "Maybe we just have to speak the move we want," said Leanne. "Pawn to queen's knight two," she added, and then one of the pawns moved forward two spaces.

"Everyone better stand back while we tell the pieces where to move," Anthony ordered gently, "unless you want to possibly get knocked over by a chess piece or caught in the middle of a wizard's chess battle."

As he finished speaking one of the other white pawns moved forward. Anthony and Leanne worked together suggesting move quietly and pointing where they thought they should make their next move before speaking the commands out loud. After twenty minutes of play, Anthony and Leanne cried out with excitement and gave each other a big hug as they had managed to check mate the white king.

The eight friends then made their way across the now sparsely covered chess board and onto the door that was no unlocked.

The next room was another large chamber, however it was empty. On closer inspection they found several smashed rocks and noted a foul odour emanating from near the broken stones. The group made their way to the far side of the room to another door that was unlocked, having no idea that the troll that was supposed to be placed in this room had been removed by Dumbledore due to the events on Halloween earlier in the school year and he had felt that a troll was too dangerous in case any of the students actually found their way down here. Quirrel had been assigned the job of finding a replacement creature but he had not informed the headmaster that he had just decided to leave the room vacant for when he was planning on making his move for the stone himself.

The students filed into the next room and heard the door behind them slam shut. They turned around to see that there was now magical purple flames blocking their return from whence they came, and on the other side of the room there were black flames blocking the way to the next door. In the middle of the room they saw a large table with seven potion flasks of different shapes and sizes lined up and numbered. As they approached the table they also discovered a large notice in the middle of the table.

" _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

 _Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

 _One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

 _Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

 _Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

 _Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

 _Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,_

 _To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

 _First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

 _You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

 _Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

 _But if you would move onwards neither is your friend;_

 _Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

 _Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

 _Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

 _Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._ "

Hermione read the instructions out loud and then she exclaimed, "Brilliant. This isn't magic — it's logic — a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here for ever."

"Well, if it is so brilliant, then how do we get past," wondered Wayne.

"We just have to deduce which bottle holds the poisons, the wine, and the potion to move us forward or to move us backwards," explained Hermione. Hermione then began to speak quietly to herself, pointing at one or another bottle form time to time as she reviewed the clues. After a couple of minutes she bit her lip and then a large grin came across her face. "The nettle wine is in flasks two and six, which means that third flask lets us move forward…"

"And the seventh flask lets us move back where we came from," added Daphne. "Even pure-blood witches can figure this out, Hermione."

"But there is eight of us," commented Anthony, "how do we all go forward or back?"

"Potions set up like this would be too easy to get past if you could just empty the bottles," proclaimed Daphne. "Whoever set this up probably wanted to make sure that whoever tried to get past had to drink the entire contents of one bottle, so they probably made the flasks automatically refill, so that if someone drank a poison and died, you wouldn't know which flask they had already consumed."

"So, we all just need to drink the contents of the third bottle and then we can all get past the black flames," observed Morag.

"So, who goes first?" asked Draco.

Hermione smiled as she had confidence in her own logic, "I will drink the potion first."

She then lifted the third bottle and drank it down. She noted that it had a slightly sweet but tart taste to it, and then the black flames flickered and dwindled. She placed the flask back on the table and the others saw that it had refilled almost immediately. Hermione then stepped through the door and the others each drank from the flask and followed her through into the next room.

* * *

…6.2…

* * *

The large oval shaped room was empty except for a large mirror in the middle. The group of friends looked around the room briefly and then they approached the large mirror.

Draco ignored the writing around the frame and looked into the mirror. He saw his father and his mother leaning over him and giving him love and affection. He spun around and looked at the group that was with them as he exclaimed, "What was that? How did they get in here? Why did I just see buy parents and not the rest of you?"

Morag looked puzzled. "What are you talking about? We've been here all along with you."

Hermione turned to Harry, "Is this the same mirror you found back in January when you snuck out by yourself under your cloak?"

Harry nodded the affirmative and the other six started questioning him all at one. Harry waved his hands slightly to get them all to quiet down. "It is the Mirror of Erised," he began, "and like Hermione said, I found it in another part of the castle a couple of months ago. I saw my parents and other members of my family when I stared into it."

Harry was about to explain more about the mirror when the door to the chamber was thrown open with a loud crash. The group turned at once to see the form of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor stumble in. Quirrel looked about the room and saw the students and then his eyes fixed upon the mirror. Turning back to the group, he shook his head. "So, a group of first years managed to get through those traps and puzzles. I knew I was following somebody down here, but first years, that I did not expect."

Leanne Jeffries quietly commented so the others could hear her, "How come he isn't stuttering anymore?"

"So, you little brats," continued Quirrel, "which one of you has the stone? It's obviously not in this room, so one of you must have it!"

"We don't know what you're talking about," replied Anthony.

"Right, right, of course you don't," said Quirrel as he started to approach the group. "You all decided that it would be fun to go enter a hallway that was expressly forbidden by the headmaster, and then figure out how to get past a three headed dog, all just for fun and games?"

"Well, yeah," answered Wayne Hopkins. "We took it as an intellectual challenge. We just thought the headmaster was making a challenge, or a dare, when he told us not to enter the hallway."

"He did warn you that you would die a very painful death if you entered that corridor," Quirrel added with a wicked grin, "and I am afraid you are about to find out how true that is."

"But we haven't found the stone," protested Hermione, who then clasped her hand over her mouth.

"Ah hah," exclaimed Quirrel, "so you do know about the stone!"

"The professors all hid it here, they all helped with the protections, with the traps," observed Morag, "so why would you, a professor, need to sneak in here and find the stone?"

Quirrel laughed, "No, no, you don't understand, Miss MacDougal, is it? Eight students came down here, causing mischief. I happened to come along and find their dead bodies after someone else, who came to steal the stone, did them all in. The evil perpetrator escaped, though."

Harry was confused by what the professor was saying but he could feel the pain in his scar getting worse by the moment. He turned slightly and looked into the mirror, and saw himself smiling, holding a stone, and then dropping the stone into his pocket. Harry suddenly felt the weight of something dropping into his pocket. Then he turned back to the crazed professor. "But if you came to get the stone, and we don't have it, and it's not in this room, then why are you planning on hurting us?"

"That's him, that's the one," came another voice, seemingly from behind Quirrel.

"Yes, it is him, it is Potter," Quirrel said, agreeing with the voice.

"Let me look upon him with my own eyes, then we can get rid of him, and the rest," snarled the eerie voice.

Quirrel then began to undo his turban, and Harry whispered to the others, "Get your wands out."

Upon unravelling his turban, the students could all tell that there was a face sticking out of the back of Quirrel's head. Several of them felt ill at this site, while they all felt shock.

"Who is that?" wondered Leanne out loud.

"He looks mean," added Hermione.

The face spoke again after looking at all of them. "So, we have a Malfoy, a son of one of my Death Eaters, associating himself with Potter. How interesting, how very interesting, indeed." The face then seemed to sneer, "One of them must have the stone, kill them all, then search them for the stone!" commanded the voice.

"Of course, master," replied Quirrel as he turned around. The DADA professor then began to draw his wand.

The students already had their wands out, and pointed them at the professor who was now advancing upon them. As he took a few steps closer to them, Wayne Hopkins sliced his wand up and down with a slight curve as he called out "incendio" and a jest of flame shot forth and caught the professor's robes.

Quirrel quickly doused the flames with a spell and glared at the student.

Hermione then pointed at him as she called out "Wingardium leviosa" and the professor started to elevate into the air.

Quirrel responded with a quick "stupefy" directed at the bushy haired witch which caused her to collapse on the floor. Her spell was immediately ended and he found himself dropping to the floor himself with a loud thud. The voice behind his head growled at him, "What are you doing you fool? Eliminate them, all of them!"

Draco did not like being called out by the mysterious face nor that they were all being attacked and threatened with death, so he drew his wand in an up and down zig zag pattern as he called out "diffendo" — a light green ray emitted from his wand and cut into Quirrel's right arm, causing a gash and making him drop his wand.

The professor cried out in anguish as he went to cover the cut with his left hand.

"The boy," called out the voice from the back of his head, "grab the Potter boy!"

The students were stunned that their limited attacks merely seemed to slow down the professor. Quirrel shoved Wayne Hopkins to the side as he strode forwards and reached out to grab Harry Potter. Ignoring his bleeding arm he reached out and grabbed Harry by the sides of his face. Immediately his hands began to smoke and he screamed out in pain. The others all stared in awe at what they just saw.

The voice from the back of the professor's head called out once again, "Grab your wand and kill him, kill Potter! Then kill them all!"

Harry looked at the slightly burned hands of his professor as he could feel that his own cheeks were feeling red and sore. Then he looked up at the professor who had been attacking him and Harry knew he couldn't let anyone else get hurt. He reached out with his hands and grabbed the wrists of the professor, who once again cried out in pain as smoke arose from where Harry was touching him.

Quirrel struggled with him and finally was able to shake Harry off of his arms as he looked down at the black burn marks on his arms and the blisters on his hands from where he had grabbed Harry. Harry stood back up and grabbed the sides of Quirrel's face with his hands.

"I won't let you hurt my friends!" yelled Harry.

Quirrel tried to push Harry away but as his hands touched Harry's arms they began to smoke and burn once again as well. Harry cried out in pain as well as the two fell towards the floor. Quarrel's body then deteriorated into grey ash. Harry stumbled backwards as his hands ached from the red blisters that had formed.

A black cloud escaped from the smouldering remains of the professor. The black cloud swirled around and a face seemed to appear.

"Somehow you managed to survive an encounter with me once again, Harry Potter," called out a voice from the cloud. "Do not expect to be so fortunate the next time we meet."

Before the cloud disappeared Professor Dumbledore and Professor O'Malley ran into the room.

"Voldemort," muttered O'Malley.

The black cloud spun around the room and the face appeared and looked upon the two newly arrived professors.

"So, Dumbledore, you dare face me, even when I am merely a shade, a spirit," spoke the voice. "I have seen who has befriended young Potter, and I will remember all of them. They each will suffer, in turn, once I eliminate the one who escaped my wrath!"

"No, you shall not harm him or any of his friends, or any other wizards or witches," proclaimed the headmaster.

"I shall return," spoke the cloud again, "you have all been warned." Then the black cloud dissipated.

Daphne gasped as she watched the dark cloud evaporate in front of them. "Was that really the Dark Lord?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily as he looked over the group of eight students. "I do believe that was what remains of the one who called himself Lord Voldemort."

Several of the students gasped at the use of the name of the dark wizard.

Professor O'Malley stepped forward and began to inspect the students, "Is everyone okay? What happened here?"

Hermione began to answer for the group, "We had figured out that the Philosopher's Stone was hidden here, somewhere. Then we figured out that someone was trying to steal it, so we thought we should try to get to it first."

Morag then cut in, "And it appears it was a good thing, too, as Professor Quirrel showed up, and threatened to kill us all just to get the stone."

Daphne then added, "And then he attacked Harry and his hands burned and then his body burned up when Harry grabbed him to stop him from attacking all of us."

"Then this black cloud came out," continued Anthony, "and you all were here to see and hear what it said."

"Was that really Voldemort?" asked a stunned Harry.

The headmaster surveyed what had happened, and saw that the mirror was intact. "I am amazed at how you all managed to get through those traps and puzzles," he said as he nodded at the students. "And yes, Harry, that was Lord Voldemort. It is clear that he did not die, but somehow his spirit has managed to survive. And he managed to possess Professor Quirrel."

"But what happened to Professor Quirrel?" asked Hermione who was puzzled by what had happened at the end.

Dumbledore smiled at all of them. "It is only conjecture," began the headmaster. "However, I presume that it has to do with the protections placed on Harry by his mother the unfortunate night that the Dark Lord killed them and then tried to kill Harry." He turned to Harry and tried to apologise with the expression on his face. "I'm sorry to have to bring this up, Harry, especially in front of your friends. But I believe that whatever your mother did that allowed you to survive the killing curse back when you were a toddler also protected you tonight from Quirrel's attack."

Leanne then spoke up, "But the cloud, the Dark Lord, he said he saw who was with Harry, and he said he would come after us if and when he returns."

"Is He Who Must Not Be Named really going to be coming back?" asked Wayne Hopkins. "We all were taught that he had died that night, on Halloween, all those years ago."

Dumbledore frowned at this question. "I fear that the spirit, the spirit of the being that was once Voldemort, will eventually try to find a way to come back. He apparently wanted to use the Philosopher's Stone to do it. And he will not stop searching for another way to return."

Several of the students shivered at the idea. Draco and Daphne were both unusually silent at hearing all of this.

Professor O'Malley then spoke up. "I'm sure that they have all been through quite the ordeal tonight. Perhaps it would be best to have Madam Pomfrey check them all over."

"An excellent idea," agreed the headmaster. He then gave an inaudible signal that called forth his phoenix. The majestic bird appeared in a flash of flame and the headmaster requested that the bird take the children up to the infirmary. Turning back to the students, "Now, two at a time," he said to the them, "take a gentle hold of Fawkes' tail feathers, and he will bring you to the infirmary."

A minute later all of the students had been transported to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey had been busily assessing all of them, discovering that the only one with any serious injuries was Harry Potter with the second degree burns on his hands and first degree burns on his face and wrists. She quickly administered a healing potion and applied some burn salve to the young wizard's injuries.

Once they had all been attended to by the healer, Dumbledore appeared with the four heads of house. "Now, you eight showed a lot of bravery, and a lot of courage to undertake what you did this evening."

Professor McGonagall smiled at the headmaster's words. "While you all showed admiral traits that are associated with Godric Gryffindor, I must also add that you undertook this endeavour carefully and without others finding out about what you were up to." Professor Snape's face sneered a little less as the comments were clearly pointing out qualities of the house of Salazar Slytherin. "In addition to such traits as honoured by the founder Salazar Slytherin, you also showed teamwork and faithfulness to each other as well as showing that you had wisdom and intelligence in being able to successfully navigate the various traps that were created to keep the stone safe, so you also have shown yourselves to have traits of both Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. I must say that I never expected the kind of rewards to manifest themselves as a result of our new History of Magic Professor having placed you all into study groups crossing house boundaries. I must say that I am indeed pleased."

The students all smiled in response and the heads of house all smiled at their respective students.

The headmaster then lost his smile as he continued. "However, I am concerned about the things which you all witnessed this evening. I must ask that you not speak of the events in the final room, with anyone; do not speak about it to your friends or your families. While we may now suspect that the one who called himself Voldemort may be preparing to return, we do not know that he will, in fact, be able to do this, nor do we know when this would come about. We do not need to panic your families, this school, or the wizard populace in general, so we need to ask you to keep these events to yourselves. Rest assured, that the appropriate people will be looking into this so that we may all be prepared for his possible eventual return."

The students shifted uncomfortably where they stood. Some looked at the floor in front of them, some looked towards their heads of house to see if there was any direction offered from them about how they should respond.

"I trust that you all understand the importance of this," continued the headmaster. "Now, it is quite late, and I do believe that you all need to get your rest, so we will have your heads of house return you to your dormitories and we shall see you all at breakfast."

With that pronouncement the headmaster turned and left the infirmary. He did, however, wait in the hallway and when Professor Mcgonagall left with Hermione and Harry to begin their walk back to the Gryffindor Tower, he called Harry to him. "Now, Harry, is there something more you would like to tell me? What else happened when you were in the room with the Mirror of Erised?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he flushed at being confronted by the headmaster. "I looked into the mirror, and I saw my self holding the stone, and my reflection placed the stone in his pocket, and then I felt something land in my pocket."

"Could you show me what is in your pocket, Harry?" asked the headmaster as a smile returned to his face.

Harry reached into his pocket and was a little startled to find a large smooth stone there. He pulled out what was a large red gem like stone. Harry examined it, and then looked up at the headmaster. "So, this is the Philosopher's Stone?"

Albus Dumbledore's smile turned a little serious. "No, my boy, it is not. That would have been quite foolish to actually place such an artefact here in the school. This is merely a replica. Nicholas Flamel still has the original stone, he thought the idea of using the stone as bait to draw out the potential return of the one known as Voldemort. Ultimately I must say he was probably correct, however, we did gain valuable information in that we now know that Voldemort may actually be able to return. Don't you worry, we will prepare for this."

Harry nodded as the headmaster tossed the red stone up in the air, and then allowed the stone to land on the floor and shatter. Dumbledore looked at the two students who were surprised by his actions, and smiled. "Even an old man can be full of surprises. Now we know for sure that it was only a fake, as the real stone would not have broken so easily."

With those words the headmaster turned and headed off in the opposite direction from where the Gryffindors needed to go.

The students managed to stay quiet about what they had actually accomplished that night, with a tale of an adventure trying to find their way around the school at night seeming quite tame compared to what they had actually done. Their classes continued with Professor Dumbledore filling in for the absent Quirrel, whose disappearance was explained to the school as the result of an unfortunate accident that would prevent the professor from being able to return. Neville wondered silently what Harry and Hermione had actually does that night, but he did not associate his friends leaving in the middle of the night with the disappearance of the DADA professor, which was not announced to the school until Tuesday after the Easter holiday, as the students were given Monday off from school to travel back if they had spent the holiday with their families.

Professor O'Malley wondered to himself how so many in the wizarding world seemed to accept anything that the headmaster said, but he was relieved that he had at least managed to accomplish his initial goal of getting certain students to work cooperatively, including his younger self, with hopefully as little interruptions in the time line. He kept an eye on the eight students who had made their trek into the underground passages and ultimately confronted the possessed teacher, and he was not able to detect any obvious problems that any of them were having. He was happy to see that they continued to work together in their study group.

* * *

…6.3…

* * *

The school year was now winding down to an end, and AC O'Malley found himself relieved that he had managed to start his mission of breaking down the barriers between the different groups and start seeing the seeds that would hopefully lead to the magical world to move beyond its bigotry that revolved around blood status. Hoping to finally relax briefly before the summer holidays began, and the next step on his work on altering the future so as to secure the safety of his young self and now future bride, he was visiting the Three Broomsticks and having a glass of fire whiskey.

Madam Rosmerta espied her once frequent but lately estranged customer and quickly sat down at his table.

"So, professor," she began softly, "do you have any big plans for the summer months? School will be out soon, and you won't have to be such a stranger here."

AC winced at her words, feeling as though he had been avoiding her, which he had been trying to do, or at least not consciously he said to himself. "Not sure," he said in response as he looked at his half empty glass and then placed it on the table. "I was figuring I would be heading back to Australia, as I didn't think I could stay at the castle all summer."

Rosmerta frowned momentarily. "Why not rent a place here, if you have no where else to go, that is," she suggested hopefully.

AC considered her offer. "Well, I do have a lot of plans. I need to continue my research."

Rosmerta tried to hide her disappointment with his reply. "Oh, so you need to do your research in Australia."

AC tilted his head slightly as he considered his response. "Well, no actually, I do have some investigating I need to do here in Britain."

She smiled brightly at him. "Then its settled, you can stay here."

AC felt the heat of blood rushing to his face. "I suppose I could," he agreed cautiously.

Rosmerta smiled at him once again, and as she stood up to leave his table she added, "Oh, I do have another place with rooms I rent out, so you wouldn't have to stay _here_ , in the Inn, if that would make you feel better." She then turned and headed back to the bar to check on her other patrons.

"Merlin, what did I just get myself into," he wondered as he watched her walk away. AC shook his head as he caught himself staring to closely at her retreading backside. "Behave," he whispered to himself, trying to control his thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7 - Finding Horcruxes

**AN: Educational diatribe: Future imperfect is NOT an actual verb tense. Past Imperfect, or the Imperfect tense is defined as follows:**

The **imperfect** is a verb form, found in various languages, which combines past tense (reference to a past time) and imperfective aspect (reference to a continuing or repeated event or state). It can therefore have meanings similar to the English "was walking" or "used to walk." It contrasts with preterite forms, which refer to a single completed event in the past.

 **So, as to explain the title of the story — the acts of the Pure-Bloods were continued from the past (they were attacking muggles, muggle born, and blood traitors) — and this continued even into the future (compared to the time of the books, 1991-1998).**

 **Also, there is the definition of imperfect:** "Imperfect" comes from the Latin _imperfectus_ "unfinished"

 **And the future (the time after the original timeline in the books) is "unfinished" as AC (or Draco) is planning to change the future, to "perfect it" — so that the actions from the first war with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, which continued into the time of the Harry Potter books, and even beyond, may actually come to a stop. So, no, there is no such verb tense as future imperfect. But in any case, I still thought that it was a cool name for the story. Apologies to my English teachers in school, especially Mrs. Taschiaglou, who actually taught me grammar…but none of you readers probably have any idea who she is/was or where she taught, so don't worry about it.**

 **Now, back to the story….**

* * *

 **C7 Finding Horcruxes**

* * *

 _Summer of 1992_

AC O'Malley had decided to take up Rosmerta's offer and stay in one of her rooms for let. He knew that he could easily have purchased a nice home, and he still considered the possibility of doing so, he just wasn't sure where he wanted to settle down. Once he had moved his few belongings into the apartment he was renting he took some time to reflect on what he had already accomplished, and what he still needed to do. He had a desk in the room which he added a magical lock to, and in the large drawer he had the papers which he had compiled after his numerous encounters with Ronald Weasley where he got him to spill details about what exactly Harry Potter had done to defeat Voldemort. His goal continued to be to help expedite the defeat of the Dark Lord, but just as important to him was working on irradiating the influence of the blood purists who eventually took the life of his beautiful Astoria. He knew that he could not bring her back, but he had every intention of preventing her death so his younger self would not have to deal with her loss in his future.

AC also knew that there was no way to return to the time that he had left. He often wondered what had happened to his son. He even wondered if that world he left behind even existed anymore, for as he was changing things in the current present, had that eliminated the time line he left. Perhaps he could find out if there was a way to go back to the time he left, but two things prevented that. One, Daphne Greengrass Nott had invented the time portal, and that time portal was stuck in the future. He had no idea what exactly his sister-in-law had done to create the device, and he was certain that he did not possess the skills to recreate it. Two, as he had changed the time line where he currently was, if he was able to travel to the future, would he be able to travel to the future he left or would there only be the future that was coming to be. When he considered the fate of his son, he had force himself to think of him only as a son who was yet to be born and that he had a wide open future ahead of him, hopefully with both parents to raise him for a very long time.

AC shook his head to get beyond his melancholy thoughts and to help him focus on what he needed to do this summer, before young Draco and Harry Potter would begin their second year at Hogwarts. He was mildly relieved that he had been invited back to teach at Hogwarts, despite some complaints from some of the pureblood families about his teaching methods. However, the headmaster was impressed with how he had turned the previously despised History of Magic Curriculum into a class that students looked forward to as they debated the various topics that Dr. O'Malley brought up. Dumbledore was also impressed with his ability to get students from different houses to work together, the most obvious example being the group of 8 first year students who had managed to defeat Quirrel who was possessed by the Dark Lord and recover the Philosopher's Stone, even if the stone hidden in the mirror had been proven to be a fake.

He pulled out a piece of parchment as he began to write down a list of objectives he needed to accomplish during the upcoming school year. There was the diary his father was planning to slip into a student's belongings, specifically the youngest Weasley who would be a first year student this coming fall. AC knew he would need to obtain the diary to prevent the events of the previous year from occurring. He also hoped that by saving her from being ensnared and possessed by the spirit of Tom Riddle, then Potter wouldn't have to save her, and it would be easier to prevent a future relationship between the red headed fangirl and his former nemesis. He shivered slightly as he considered that much of what he was doing was ultimately to help out the Potter brat succeed even earlier than he had done the first time. Perhaps the simple knowledge that Potter had actually defeated the Dark Lord, and had actually saved him from the fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement made it easier to work with him. From the perspective of an adult seeing how Potter was not as arrogant as he thought he had been as a student, and the decreased influence on the "chosen one's" life by one Ronald Weasley this time around made it easier for him to help him.

Once again he found his thoughts had been side tracked and he returned to reviewing his list. He had to head to Gringotts, and somehow negotiate with the goblins for an item hidden in a very secure vault. He figured this was a better approach than simply breaking into Gringotts, stealing the item and then stealing a dragon, as the golden trio from Gryffindor had done during the original version of their seventh year. He also would have to find the Ravenclaw Diadem, and considering that was in a place he knew how to find at Hogwarts, that one should be the easiest to accomplish.

Having reviewed his list, AC made his way over to the Three Broomsticks to order some lunch while he continued to work on exactly when his younger self would show up at Diagon Alley for obtaining his school supplies, as that would be the easiest time to retrieve the diary. It was still mid July and he knew that the fateful day would be sometime in August when Gilderoy Lockhart would announce his joining the staff at Hogwarts as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher while also having a book signing at Flourish and Blotts. AC sat himself down at a table as he began to peruse the most recent edition of the Daily Prophet, hoping to find information about when Lockhart might actually be showing up at the bookstore.

Rosmerta brought him his usual lunch and sat down next to him at his table. "Doing your research in the local newspaper now?" she asked jovially.

AC was startled slightly as he had been carefully scanning the paper for anything that might be useful. He looked up at the proprietor and gave a half smile. "Oh, good day, Rosmerta," he said casually.

She frowned at his greeting. "I mange to provide you with accommodations for the summer, I even finally get you to drop the Madam from in front of my name when you speak to me, yet you still have this look on your face of being unpleasantly disturbed when I sit down to join you for your meal."

AC leaned back in his chair as he placed the newspaper on the table. He ran his hand slowly through his slightly greying hair and let out a slow sigh. "No, no, Rosmerta, it's not at all what you must be thinking."

"What is it that you think that I am thinking?" she asked pointedly. Then, before he could answer, "Why have you become so uptight around me over the past couple of weeks?"

AC looked around the room quickly to see if any of the other patrons were staring at them, but he noticed that they were all involved in their own conversations and were paying no heed to he and Rosmerta. "Well, I was, yeah, well, I was thinking that you must be thinking that I am avoiding you, or something," he stammered out.

Rosmerta shook her head slightly, "Why would I even think you're avoiding me? You told me at the end of the school year you have research to do, so I assume you will be, that you are, busy. But when you do show up here, for the odd meal or the occasional drink, you seem to want to have nothing to do with me, or wish I would just leave you well enough alone."

AC grimaced slightly at her words and now gently scratched the side of his face in front of his right ear. "That's not it at all. It's just that," he continued trying to explain himself but realised that he was failing miserably, "well, it's just that I'm not sure how to be or to act around you."

"Am I _that_ intimidating?" she asked.

"No, not at all," he replied quickly.

"Am I that horrible to look upon?" she then asked.

"No," said AC, shaking his head and then looking down at the table in front of him.

There was an awkward silence for a minute that was broken by the quiet words from Rosmerta. "Who is she?"

AC was stunned by the question. "What? Who is who?"

Rosmerta rolled her eyes. "I can understand if you don't like me, but honestly, I thought we were making a connection, becoming friends. By Merlin's beard I even got to the point of thinking, of wanting, of hoping for something more. But, there has been a growing distance from you over the summer. And based on your responses that it must be some other woman that occupies your thoughts. Is it a fiancee? A former lover? Someone you left behind in Australia?"

AC tried to prevent his mouth from hanging open in response to her questions. He took a deep breath and looked out a window at the front of the tavern. "I was married. It was wonderful. _She_ was wonderful. However," he paused as he took another deep breath, "however, there were those who took her away from me. Those who wanted to make a point based on their absurd ideals which I did not agree with."

"You mean people like the Death Eaters here," she said knowingly, "like the blood supremacists who started the last war and followed You Know Who."

AC nodded silently.

"I am so sorry," said Rosmerta comfortingly as she placed her hand on his arm.

AC still did not turn to look at Rosmerta. "It is because of her memory that I do the things I do. I will do everything I can to change this world, to stop the hatred and the bigotry, to give these children, these students, these wizards and witches the chance to grow up and not fear for their lives from the cruelty of those who seek to control this world and impose their twisted ideals on the rest of us."

Rosmerta was holding back tears as she listened to him, yet AC continued to stare out the window. She wanted to ask more, but she understood that it was not the time and it was not her place to force any more information out of him. With that, she stood up, letting her hand slide up his arm and then she gently lifted his chin, placed a simple kiss on his cheek, and then turned to go back to her work.

AC sat there at the table for ten minutes in silence, before collecting himself and heading off to Diagon Alley to try and determine exactly when it was that his younger self would be arriving to purchase his books. After making his way through the Leaky Cauldron, he started to walk down the street, considering how much he overlooked the details of the shops, and the strange beauty which Diagon Alley held and he had not noticed before. In his mind he recalled how the Alley looked just after the end of the war. He imagined in his mind the changes as the shops were rebuilt, the store fronts updated, and how business slowly returned to the Alley, but he always could feel that it wasn't the same and never would be quite the same. Too many shopkeepers and too many witches and wizards had lost their lives due to the war and the attacks by the Death Eaters, and those events seemed to have hardened the entire magical community.

Before he realised it, he was standing at the entrance to Flourish and Blotts. There was a large sign on the main window that simply announced "Special Surprise Announcement and Book Signing, Thursday, August 6, 1992."

It didn't take an engineer to deduce that was the day that Gilderoy Lockhart would be present to announce his acceptance of the position of Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts, and sell dozens and dozens of books, which was made all the easier for him by placing all of them on the required reading lists for all students.

AC smiled knowingly at the sign and then was determined to return to Diagon Alley that day. Then he turned and made his way back up the alley towards Gringotts Bank. Upon entering the lobby he headed to one of the side desks and starting speaking to one of the guards. The guard grunted at him and then stepped away from the counter. Two minutes later he returned with another goblin who then led him down a hall towards the back part of the bank. AC was shown to a small office where a goblin with sparse white hair was sitting behind a large stone desk. The goblin did not look up as AC sat down in the chair across from him, but he continued writing in a journal and crosschecking figures from a stack of parchment to his left. After 5 minutes the goblin looked up and seemed to frown at Dr. O'Malley.

"So, wizard," he snarled, "what is so important that I need to interrupt my day to speak with you?"

AC tried to smile at the goblin. "I have a concern that there may be an issue with someone having stored a dark artefact within one of your vaults, without your knowledge, and possibly in violation of the Treaty of 1272."

The goblin tried to hide the surprise from his face yet he raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know this, wizard? We do not give finders fees for such actions."

AC shook his head slightly. "Let us just say that I have some information. And in two weeks time, I may be able to show a similar dark object. This other object, which I expect to acquire shortly, may be tainted in the same manner as the object which I do believe is in one of the vaults."

"Then why tell me now and waste my time if you don't have the dark item?" demanded the goblin, his tone harsh.

"Because, sir," AC added trying to be as respectful as possible, "when I return in about 2 weeks with the dark object, I want it made clear at this point, ahead of time, that I am only bringing that object onto your premises so that it can be used to identify the other object in question. I would rather avoid any goblin nation punishment for bringing a banned item onto your property without first discussing it with you or one of the other account managers."

"Wise, and thoughtful," replied the goblin as he eyed Dr. O'Malley as if it was the first time he was looking at him. "When you return, tell the guard that you have a followup appointment with me, Strongfist."

AC nodded his head, "I shall return. I am grateful that you took the time to hear me out today."

With that he stood up and exited the office and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron and then flooed back to Hogsmeade.

* * *

7.1

* * *

August 6 had arrived and AC left for Hogsmeade early, as he did not want to leave everything to chance. He had considered bribing someone to tell him if the Malfoys showed up at Diagon Alley prior to this day, but he did not want to take the chance of anyone knowing that he was seeking information on Malfoy, or Potter or anyone else for that matter.

AC placed a notice-me-not charm on himself as he made his way up and down the alley, staying relatively close to the bookstore, which already had line forming to enter as apparently word had gotten out to the public that Gilderoy Lockhart would indeed be present for the book signing. Considering that the school book lists had been sent out at the end of July, AC was not surprised in the least. Having all of the students being expected to buy the complete set of works of the incompetent pretender was absurd when AC was a student however, it would lead to a large crowd at Flourish and Blotts today as so many wanted a chance to meet the wizard voted as having the best smile for three years running. It gave ample coverage for his father to slide a book into the cauldron of one young Weasley girl, and it would give him ample coverage to find a way to get it back.

The crowd on the street was beginning to grow, and AC noticed the Weasley clan but they were not accompanied by Potter or Granger. He rubbed his forehead as he silently cursed the situation. Potter and Granger were not as close to the red headed family as they were when he was younger, all thanks to his machinations. He quickly scanned the crowds once he noticed the Weasley family head into Olivander's Wand shop. This would give him time, assuming that Lucius would once again try to hide the diary in the Weasley girl's purchases. He had not espied his family nor whomever would be bringing Harry Potter to the alley, although Potter's presence was not as important.

A few minutes later he spotted Potter and Granger with Leanne Jeffries and her family. He followed them closely and overheard Harry explaining that he had not intended on ignoring his friends' letters, but that there was some house elf that had been intercepting his post all summer. AC quickly decided he needed to do something about Dobby, as he assumed that it was the Malfoy elf whom Potter had tricked Lucius into freeing at the end of their second year after the whole basilisk business and the Chamber of Secrets problems had been resolved. He shook his head as he realised that he had more things to attend to this year, and now it would include this Dobby.

He then turned and headed back to the bookstore just in time as he saw the Weasley clan head into the store. As he approached Flourish and Blotts, he noticed his family approaching from the other direction. He smiled to himself as he anticipated his plans to obtain the diary were soon to be paying off. He stood just outside the door to the store which was ajar as the line to get autographs from the famed Lockhart was getting longer. AC had learned that the man was a fraud shortly after he had disappeared from the school. It wasn't until Weasley had divulged what actually happened to the man during one of his many drunken interrogations that AC learned the truth of what had happened that year. His older self had developed a healthy respect for young Harry Potter that his younger self never had while they were students together. Enough reminiscing, he told himself, when he noticed Lucius making his way through the crowds. Soon enough the argument between Lucius and Arthur Weasley occurred once more. AC considered that some things could not be altered in the timelines, and perhaps his father's behaviour was one of those such things.

AC stepped away from the store as the Malfoys left shortly after that incident. He was still obscured from most people's view with his notice-me-not charm when the Weasleys managed to emerge from the bookshop. The large group were starting to make their way back towards Gringotts when he carefully sent a tripping hex at the youngest Weasley. Ginny had been carrying her new books and her cauldron which all suddenly toppled over. AC was quick to appear and help the young witch back to her feet and then to help her get her books. In the confusion of everything that was happening no one noticed as he slid the diary into his own pocket as the other Weasleys also helped Ginny get her books cleaned up.

"I hope I wasn't the cause of your tripping, young lady," said an apologetic AC.

Ginny blushed slightly at the kindness of the man who was helping her. AC then introduced himself to her parents, "AC O'Malley, History of Magic Professor at Hogwarts, at your service."

Arthur beamed with pleasure at meeting the man, and Molly was shocked that there was an actual teacher and no longer the ghost, Binns, teaching the class. "But what happened to Professor Binns?" she asked, surprised.

"We told you mum," spoke up Fred, or was it George, "we had a new professor this year in History of Magic."

"Yeah," added the other twin, "he actually can make history an interesting subject."

"And that takes real magic," added the grinning first twin to speak up.

Arthur reached out and shook his hand. "Any professor who can get our Fred and George excited about any subject must be just brilliant," he proclaimed with a smile as he continued to shake AC's hand.

AC smiled awkwardly, grateful that his greying hair and goatee would easily hide that he was, in fact, a Malfoy. "Well, at any rate, I insist that I buy your family here some ice cream over at Fortescue's for the trouble I seemed to have caused."

"Nonsense," protested Molly, "you didn't cause any trouble, you were just at the right time and place to help young Ginevra here when she stumbled."

AC shrugged, "In that case, I insist on treating you to ice cream in thanks for the praise from the twins, George and Fred, right?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "This is the professor who made us work with people from other houses, and now Potter is friends with snakes and badgers."

The twins glared at the youngest brother. "Ronald," began George, "Harry can be friends with whomever he chooses."

"But those snakes are probably going to set him up for some sort of trouble," declared Ron.

Molly glared at her son who was being petulant. "Now Ronald, you apologise to your professor. If he's having you work with other students than it is probably for your own good."

Arthur then chimed in, "With my job at the ministry I work with people from all of the houses at Hogwarts. You won't be isolated to spending time and working with only your mates from your house for your entire life."

AC seemed to smile in response to the encouragement he was receiving from the Weasley parents. He knew he hardly had anything nice to say about them when he was a student himself, but he could at least detect a certain charm that Mr. Weasley had. He also recalled the stories of Mrs. Weasley facing off against his Aunt Bellatrix during the Battle for Hogwarts, and he knew better than to underestimate her skills with magic based on her appearance.

The group made their way to Fortescue's Ice Cream Shoppe, and once everyone had received a treat, AC checked the time and then quickly apologised to the Weasleys as he informed them that he did not want to be late to an important meeting. He managed to get himself lost in the crowd and then headed back to Gringotts for his meeting with Strongfist. Once inside the lobby, he spoke to one of the guards and he was one again led to the same office where he had met with the older goblin just a couple of weeks previously.

AC sat quietly at the desk in the office, as he waited over ten minutes for the goblin account manager to arrive. He was convinced that the goblins were making him wait intentionally as they did not want to appear to need to be troubled by the time schedule of a wizard. The door from the back of the office opened slowly and in walked Strongfist with two goblin guards who had swords at their sides.

"So, human, O'Malley," snarled the goblin as he took a seat behind the desk, "you have the item with you now." It was clearly a statement and not a question.

AC slowly moved to remove the diary from his pocket and place it on the desk.

Strongfist then began to inspect the book while just looking at it, then he pulled out some thick gloves from a drawer in the desk. AC noticed that they were probably made of dragon hide.

Once he had the gloves on he opened the book and slowly turned some of the pages. He closed the book and then pulled out a small blue stone and waved the stone over the diary for over a minute.

Strongfist then looked up at AC, "It is, as you say, quite a dark object. If I understand your laws, wizard, the creation of such an object breaks many of your laws, and yet you have this foul thing on your person."

"I did not create it," explained AC, "it is a creation of the Dark Lord."

"So, this is how he prevented his soul from actually passing on," said Strongfist. He then eyed AC carefully. "And what do you gain by bringing this to us?"

"I was hoping that you would have a way to destroy this, as well as any others that have been made," stated AC.

Strongfist raised an eyebrow. "There are more? How many more?"

"There are six others," he said hesitantly. "I do not have possession of any others, yet," he added, "but I have plans on acquiring several of them soon. However, there are two that are going to be problematic to obtain or destroy."

Strongfist once again eyed him carefully. "So, one of these items is somewhere here, in our vaults."

AC nodded.

Strongfist then grunted. "And we are supposed to just search for a dark object, somewhere in one of our vaults?"

AC shook his head, "That would be absurd, and I would not propose such a thing. The other such item is hidden in a vault. A very particular vault. The owner of said vault is currently in Azkaban. I would presume that the storing of an unmarked, unregistered dark magical artefact within your walls violates your charter and your agreements with the wizarding world, at least according to the treaty accords from 1272. After the third goblin rebellion and the issues your people had with wizards claiming they had artefacts from the Crusades in the Holy Lands and in the Byzantine Empire, when dark items were being submitted to be kept in the vaults but described as the bounty of their raids from the Middle East, the treaty made it clear that no such objects were to be brought onto the premises without proper notification of the bank."

"You are a student of history, Mr., or should I say, Dr. O'Malley," acknowledged Strongfist.

"I _am_ a teacher of history at Hogwarts, so I would hope that I was a student of history," replied AC with a smile.

"You are different from other wizards," stated the goblin guardedly.

"Perhaps," said AC as he nodded. "What I would request is that you remove the offending object from said vault, and either you can destroy it or I can destroy it, and hopefully this will be done soon at any rate. But I must know that it has been destroyed."

"You do know the penalty for storing such a dark object in Gringotts without properly identifying the object?" asked the goblin.

"Complete forfeiture of all of the vaults contents," added AC trying to keep a mask of non emotion on his face.

"Do you require a finder's fee?" asked the goblin.

"Only a minimal fee," added AC, with a slight smile. "However, I am quite sure that the owners of the vault would be more than displeased with losing the contents of their vault."

"But as you say, _they_ are in Azkaban," smiled Strongfist, "and for now can do nothing. And in the future, they could risk another goblin rebellion, as your kind call it, should _they_ decide to act upon their displeasure."

AC thought he glimpsed a little twinkle in the older goblin's eyes as he said that.

"The vault belongs to Bellatrix Lestrange," stated AC, then he added, "And you would be looking for the famed Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. I would advise your employees who retrieve the item to not touch it with their bare hands."

Strongfist said nothing but waved to the guards with his hand that was still under the table. The guards quietly left the office. Strongfist placed both hands together and rested them on the desk in front of him. The two individuals sat in a quiet stillness for the next twenty minutes, awaiting the return of the guards. Soon the door was thrust open and one of the guards appeared.

"Is there a problem?" demanded Strongfist.

"There were many curses placed within the Lestrange vault," stated the goblin. "Several of the guards have been injured, but the vault items are now contained, the item in question will be brought up shortly."

"Very good," stated a calm Strongfist. "Calculate ten percent of the value of the remaining vault contents, deduct the cost of breaking the vault's wards from that ten percent and the remainder of that can be added to Mr. Malfoy's, I mean Mr. O'Malley's vault."

AC raised an eyebrow at the apparent slip of the tongue of Strongfist.

The guard nodded once and disappeared out the door once again. Strongfist turned to face AC. "Did you think we could not tell who you really are?"

AC shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I wondered if you would know."

The goblin gave an awkward smile. "There is nothing to fear," stated Strongfist. "The goblin nation has grown stronger financially, you will have the item you request, and we will no longer have to do business with anyone in the Lestrange family." After a moment he then added, "And we have no reason to share the knowledge of your true identity with anyone, wizard or witch. And Mr. O'Malley, I have no desire to learn how it is that you are here in a form much older than you should be. If I do not know anything, I cannot divulge anything to others."

AC nodded as he tried to hide the slight smile from forming on his lips. "Now, about the cup…"

"We will have it placed into a stone box," answered Strongfist. "You can do with it as you please at that point."

As AC prepared to leave the office, Strongfist added, "It is a pleasure doing business with a wizard such as yourself."

* * *

7.2

* * *

AC returned to his room with the small stone chest. He knew that it would be safe enclosed in the small container, but he also needed to work on getting the other items. He felt that he would need some assistance to deal with the ring at the Gaunt shack, but now he could bring this chest to his office at the school, and then obtain the Ravenclaw Diadem.

The next morning he made his way up to the castle, and then he directly to his office. He had a cabinet which was added and secured with a spell. Once the stone chest was safely hidden away he made his way up to the seventh floor and into the room of requirement. It did not take him long to find the vanishing cabinet and nearby the bust with the diadem sitting on top. AC pulled out a magical pouch from which he withdrew another stone chest. He opened the chest and then carefully levitated the diadem and dropped it into the chest. After letting out a deep breath once the chest was secure, he went to pick it up, but then he paused as he looked over at the vanishing cabinet. He closed his eyes momentarily then he quickly cast a bludgeoning hex at the accursed furniture which he had been ordered to repair when he was a sixth year student. Shaking his head slightly as he looked at the splintered wood debris scattered around the room he then retrieved the chest and made his way back to his office.

Once there he quickly placed the second stone chest into the cabinet and just as he was magically securing it once more he heard a knock on his door. AC stiffened at the sound and then slowly went to see who was there at his office. Opening the door he was surprised to see Professor McGonagall.

"Ah, Dr. O'Malley," began the transfiguration professor, "you are here. I thought I had seen you enter the castle. Some of the other faculty are planning some meetings soon, before the school year starts. Professors Babbling, Vector and Sinestra, that is, and they had asked me to invite you to there meeting. I don't think that the heads of the houses will be there, and our new Defence professor won't be attending though."

AC seemed a little confused, "Oh, and what is the point of these meetings? Is this a new faculty meeting or is it to review how the students are doing?"

Professor McGonagall blinked for a moment, "Oh, they have gotten into the habit of having these meetings from time to time, it is a way for them to review how things are going in general. It is an optional meeting in addition to the staff meetings. As the heads of house need to get together for additional meetings beyond the staff meetings, the other faculty started their own meetings."

AC nodded in understanding, "I'll be sure to touch base with the other professors then."

There was a brief and awkward silence before Professor McGonagall added, "Oh, and the headmaster had asked me to check in with you about your lesson plans for this coming year."

AC forced himself not to smile as it seemed he was now learning of the true reason for her visit. "Oh, well, they are fairly well formulated at this time."

McGonagall smiled at him. "Well, as Albus did have a few complaints from some of the parents, particularly from the pure-blood families, about the content of the history of magic classes this past year."

"Was there a problem with anything that I was teaching?" asked AC, hoping to discover the true underlying message she was giving to him.

"Some of the older families expressed a concern of a lack of focus on the traditional history topics," she explained.

"So, I didn't bore them enough with tales of the goblin rebellions and allow them all to sleep through the class this past year," he replied with a smile. "You can reassure the headmaster that even though I plan to review some of magical history from a less traditional perspective, I will be sure to be including plenty of dates and timelines for the various rebellions, whether it be the goblins, the vampires, or even the centaurs."

Minerva smiled again, "I will be sure to pass that message along to the headmaster."

AC smiled back, "I hope you have been able to enjoy your summer, professor."

Minerva closed her eyes, "We are both faculty, you don't need to be so formal with me when the students aren't around. You can call me Minerva."

AC smiled a little more, "And you can call me AC, none of this doctor or mister stuff for me then, either."

"Very well, AC," she said. "And yes, I have had an enjoyable summer. And yourself?"

"I have managed to complete a couple of my personal goals for the summer," he stated, "so yes, it has been a good summer."

Minerva nodded in response to his statement, then she bid him a good day as she left to return to her office. AC stood in the doorway to his office and he shook his head. "Why am I not surprised about the complaints," he said out loud to himself.

* * *

7.3

* * *

AC was sitting at a table at the Three Broomsticks the week before class were set to start having lunch. The chair next to him was suddenly occupied by the proprietor.

"Hey stranger," began Rosmerta as she smiled at him.

"Oh, hey there," he replied sheepishly. "How have you been?"

Rosmerta smiled slightly at his greeting, "I've been good, but I have hardly seen you around all summer. If it weren't for our little chat several weeks ago I would still be thinking that you're avoiding me."

AC grimaced slightly at her words, "No, that's not it at all. I've just been very busy with work."

There was a few minutes of quiet while he worked on eating his lunch and Rosmerta just sat there in a companionable silence. The quiet was disturbed as Rosmerta spoke, surprising AC. "Tell me about her."

"What? Who?" he asked as he was startled from his quiet meal.

"Your wife," she said. "The woman who you have devoted your work to. You told me the last time that she was the love of your life. That she was taken away from you and that you wanted to change the world because of her. I have seen so many students come and go throughout the years, students who became Death Eaters, students who fought the Death Eaters, students who died in the last war, on both sides. I try to welcome all students here, regardless of what they believe. But never have I met someone as focused as you are, as determined as you are. And all of this is because of this woman, this unknown person. I would love to know about the person who motivates someone to be so focused and determined."

AC sighed and then he looked at Rosmerta. "Tori, she was beautiful, she was kind, she was caring. She was raised in a pure blood family, but she understood the benefits that all wizards and witches had to give to our society. She taught me how to love others and how to love myself. I felt like I was a new person because of her, that I didn't deserve her at all. But she wouldn't let me get away with thinking about that. We worked together to make a life for ourselves, away from our pasts, and then, she was taken from me."

Rosmerta could see that there was a tear in the corner of his eye. "She sounds absolutely inspirational," she said softly.

AC closed his eyes slightly and grimaced. "She was, yes, she was."

"I'm sorry for pushing you to talk about her," said Rosmerta, her concern evident in her tone. "I shouldn't have pushed."

AC turned and looked at her and gave her a small smile. "No, no, it's okay, really, it was good to think about her. I know there is no way I can get her back, but perhaps these students can grow up in a world where they won't have to face the things that I have faced. Perhaps I have become an idealist, perhaps I am too sentimental, which may even be a weakness, but it keeps me going. Her memory keeps me motivated."

Rosmerta got up and left AC, feeling that she had perhaps went beyond what she should have by asking him to reveal so much about his past, about his wife, but she continued to wonder at just how much love he had for his late wife, and if he would ever be able to allow himself to love again.

* * *

7.4

* * *

It was not long before the school year started and the new first year students had been sorted. AC had been relieved that he had helped Harry Potter avoid being trapped outside of the barrier at Platform 9 3/4 as he had been when he originally started that year. AC had managed to contact the house elf Dobby, and he had managed to reassure the excitable creature that he would be looking out for Harry, and that he had already taken steps to prevent Lucius Malfoy's plans from coning into fruition.

Dobby could tell that there was something familiar about AC O'Malley's magic, and AC had to make a promise to the elf that he would try to find a way to liberate the elf from his bonding to the Malfoy family if he would simply not make Harry Potter's life more miserable. He recalled Ronald Weasley describing how Harry had managed to free Dobby at the end of the school year, and he figured he would have some time to work out a plan. However, the actual school year and dealing with the diary and the basilisk were the current priorities.

AC had already created his lesson plans. He had told Minerva McGonagall about his plans for a more detailed course for the students to learn the history of magic. When the students started the classes, he made a simple announcement.

"Now, there will be only one assignment for the entire school year," he began as he started with his second year students, and he had a nearly identical speech prepared for each of the classes, "and that will be to complete this table. You can work on this individually and you can work on this as teams. I would recommend that you continue with the same study groups as last year. Now, the tables will have the events in question listed on them. Your job, is to research these events. You will need to fill in the blanks. You will need to put in the dates of the events. You will need to identify the important figures involved in those events, and you will have to summarise the importance of those events. The table will need to have to following events included in it."

He then waved his hand at the blackboard at the front of the room and seventy distinct events appeared on the blackboard.

"You may spend the rest of this class copying down the seventy events. You will have until May to complete your lists. And you will be graded on the thoroughness of your lists. Don't leave this list until April to begin to work on it, and I mean you in particular Weasel, uh, Weasley."

The students pulled out parchment and started to copy the items.

AC smiled as the students were busy working on their lists. Then he continued to speak with them about the rest of the class. "Now, part of your grade for this course will be based on class attendance and on class participation."

Hermione put down her quill as she looked up at the professor. "But you said that we will need to work on this project on our own, or with a group, I thought you meant we would be doing that outside of class."

Professor O'Malley nodded as he replied to her non question. "That is correct, Miss Granger. You will need to complete the entire assignment by May, and you will need to work on that outside of class. However, the classes when we meet will be a time for discussion in detail on various topics that I believe are important to understand history and its relevance to you and to our society."

Several students had stopped writing while he was talking. AC pointed at the board as he continued, "Go ahead and continue to make sure that you have the entire list of events recorded on your parchment. Hopefully you can do that while you listen. History, as such, is not really a closed book. If you aren't actually living history, which trust me, you are, or soon will be; then you can look it up in a book. If you haven't learned about history, then you will be destined to repeat it. So, our class discussions will focus on what I feel will be important aspects of history, of what caused, or causes, things to happen in a certain way. We will discuss the history of magic, how magic came to be, and why some people have magic, and some people do not. Now, that is enough for you to ponder. Once you have finished copying your list for your tables, you can leave."

With that pronouncement, AC then spun around, allowing his robes to billow as his godfather had done so many times when he was a student himself, and then he returned to sit down at his desk and make some notes for himself.

The following week found the students sitting down in his class, all with their rudimentary tables on the magical historical events ready to be filled in. AC looked around the room and then sat down on the edge of his desk.

"Everyone, put away your tables," he said with a grin. "I thought I told you that those tables were your homework for the entire school year. I do not expect you to work on them while you are here in class."

"Then what are we going to be discussing in class?" asked Hannah Abbott.

"Today, we will begin with discussing genetics," began AC, noting that most of the pureblood students had no idea what he was talking about and many of the muggle born students were confused.

"But genetics is part of biology," protested Hermione, "it is not a part of history."

AC smiled at the bright student. "But if we are going to study the history of why some people have magic and some people do not, we have to have an understanding of genetics." He then turned to face the entire class. "There are reasons why some people have different colour eyes, different colour hair, or are tall or short. That is due to genetics, due to genes, traits they inherit from their parents. Magic is inherited like many other traits. And like many traits, there can be multiple genes that affect magic, just like there are different genes that affect eye colour, blood type, and such."

"Doesn't everyone have red blood?" asked Ron Weasley.

Hermione face palmed and Professor O'Malley grimaced at the question. "Yes, all people have red blood, but that has nothing to do with blood type. Wizards and witches don't worry about blood type the way muggles do. If you were injured, say, you had an accident and you cut your arm. If you lost a lot of blood, what would you do?"

Susan Bones then spoke up, "I'd take a blood replenishing potion."

AC nodded at her response. "Very good, five points to Hufflepuff. But what would a muggle do? They can't take a magical potion."

Hermione's hand shot up into the air, but the professor waited to see if anyone else would be able to answer the question. Finally, Seamus Finnigan then tentatively raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Finnegan, do you have an answer for us?"

"Well, me dad," he began slowly, "well he is a muggle. And he has had to go to a muggle hospital before. And if someone got a bad cut, lost a lot of blood, well they would need a blood transfusion. They have someone else's blood put into them, at a hospital."

"Muggles are also vampires?" asked Pansy Parkinson.

"No, no, they are not," explained AC. "Also, five points to Gryffindor for Mr. Finnigan's answer. Yes, they do get blood transfusions. They do not suck the blood from someone else as a vampire, they do not eat the blood. Someone would have had to donate the blood at a blood bank, and then once the blood is matched to the person who needs it, the blood is put into their body through a tube and a needle that is placed into a vein."

"That sounds barbaric," commented Ernie McMillan.

"Muggle medicine practitioners might consider the practices of medical healers to be barbaric," added the professor. "However, there are an amazing number of things muggle healers can do without magic that can surprise you."

Blaise Zambini then spoke up, "So what if their healers can do amazing things. I still don't understand what this has to do with the history of magic."

"A valid point," acknowledged Professor O'Malley. "However, I was getting to that, but I needed you to understand that the ability to use magic is something that is passed down as a genetic trait. That trait or ability had to originate somewhere. And for some reason, not every child of a magic user will be able to use magic."

"You mean like squibs," commented Millicent Bulstrode.

AC nodded his head, "Our society uses the term squib for that. However we must understand that there are many factors that determine someone's ability to use magic. And being a muggleborn does not necessarily mean that those magic users are weaker in magic than someone who is a pureblood."

"But how can that be?" asked a confused Theodore Nott. "How do you know this?"

"I know this by simply looking at the skills of various students," explained the professor, "both current students and former students. The best students, the strongest using magic are not usually, or not necessarily pure-bloods. And there are plenty of examples of strong muggle born and half blood magic users. Alas, no one has been able to do any useful studies on this, as the magical world does not use muggle scientific means to research things."

There was an odd quiet across the classroom, then AC continued, "And we can look at the history of magic. We routinely acknowledge that the four founders of Hogwarts were all uniquely gifted and strong in magic. Before them was Merlin. But did magic start with Merlin? Where did he learn it from? We have all heard or read stories about the things that Merlin accomplished, about his skills. But are we reading actual history or is it fiction? Or is it perhaps somewhere between history and fiction? Are the stories about Merlin based on truth but exaggerated, such as folklore?"

"How would we know if Merlin actually did those things, then," asked a confused Hermione Granger.

"If we could somehow travel back in time and speak with him," suggested the professor, "then we could learn about the truth of his escapades." AC paused as he looked around the class. "Is it possible to travel back in time?"

"We have time turners," commented Susan Bones. "Someone can use a time turner to go back in time."

"True," agreed AC, "however, how far back in time can someone go with using a time-turner?"

Morag MacDougal then spoke up, "Not more than an hour or two, maybe three or four at most. And someone would have to go back very far in time to be able to speak with Merlin, or even the founders."

"So, a time turner wouldn't work," said AC as he then looked back around the class. "Is there any way to travel back in time more than a few hours?"

"No," stated Draco Malfoy adamantly. "If there was, history itself could be changed."

"A very valid point, Mister Malfoy," said the professor with a smile. "So, then, how would we learn about the history of the origins of magic?"

"We would have to read various sources that discuss the accomplishments of people such as Merlin and the Four Founders," Hermione began to explain, "and then we would have to make judgements on the validity of any of the stories and look for historical documents that would support those stories."

"Merlin's beard, no, please don't make us read that much!" exclaimed Ron Weasley.

"Relax, Mr. Weasley," stated the professor, "you already have your assignment for the year. But as to the point made by Miss Granger, we will discuss what we do know about Merlin, and the founders, as part of this class. If you understand your past, what sorts of things the original, or as near to the original magical users were doing, were capable of, then you can better understand magic in general and the use of magic today."

The class was momentarily silenced by his comments. Then AC concluded, "I think that is all the time we have today. You have your project for the year. And we will continue these discussions over the course of the year." With that he dismissed the second year students, and most of the classes with the other years went similar to his discussion with these students.

* * *

 **AN: Next chapter - second year continues and delving into the Chamber of Secrets**


	8. Chapter 8 - The Chamber of Secrets

C8 The Chamber of Secrets

* * *

 **AN: Several messages (including reviews) pointed out a few issues with grammar and continuity…I've tried to fix those issues…thanks for the feedback.**

* * *

8.1

* * *

AC O'Malley's classes quickly became some of the more interesting for all the students as he led them on discussions and even welcomed debates on issues, as long as all participants were civil and avoided being rude and especially name calling. Some of the discussions included the history of the four founders. They discussed the actual contributions to magic that the four had provided, avoiding discussing the eventual fallout between the four.

AC realised that there would be no impetus for a duelling club without the attacks on students due to the Chamber of Secrets not being opened as Tom Riddle's Diary had been secured and young Ginevra Weasley had not been possessed by the horcrux it contained. AC managed to bring up the duelling tournaments that Salazar and Godric used to sponsor at the school, which started the students talking about the idea of learning how to duel and even having a duelling competition at the school. AC took the opportunity at a staff meeting to mention the interest of the students in arranging a duelling competition.

Professor Flitwick became excited at the idea. "It has been too long since this school had formal duelling instruction," commented the former champion who had retired from professional duelling competitions over twenty years prior to this.

"Oh, what a wondrous idea," exclaimed Gilderoy Lockhart. "It would be my pleasure to share my expertise with these young students on the finer points of duelling and defence!"

Snape rolled his eyes at the comments. "Of course it would," he added sarcastically, although his sarcasm was lost on the DADA professor.

Dr. O'Malley smiled slightly as the first part of his plan was starting to come together. He recalled his own duel against Harry Potter when he was a second year student. He hoped that it would be someone other than his younger self to square off against Harry, and that history would hopefully find a way to repeat itself and Harry may prove himself to be a Parselmouth, as that would be necessary to move on to the next step of his plan for getting into the Chamber of Secrets.

Once the faculty meeting had adjourned and AC found himself in his quarters he looked at the locked cabinet and started to think about what he was about to embark upon. His younger self would never have questioned the idea of getting students to enter a dangerous situation, although he had to admit to himself that he would not have wanted to enter such a situation if he could have avoided it. A Gryffindor he most certainly was not when he was a student. But now he was a professor, and he had seen many more of the realities of life and he had to admit he had developed a conscience. Feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of what he was about to do, he decided to go get himself a drink and made his way down to Hogsmeade. Feeling a little self conscious, he decided to venture to the Hogs Head Inn as opposed to the Three Broomsticks. He sat himself down at the bar and ordered a glass of fire whiskey. He closed his eyes momentarily as he was about to bring the glass to his lips when he was startled by a familiar voice coming from behind.

"I never expected to see you in this place," came the dry comment from the woman.

AC spun around on his stool and nearly dropped his glass as he came face to face with Madam Rosmerta. Before he could say anything in response she gave him a fond smile as she slid onto the stool next to him.

"It's okay, AC," she began, "you don't have to come exclusively to my place; although, it has been a while since I've seen you there. Maybe you decided you like the company here better."

AC shook off his initial surprise at seeing her at the Hogs Head Inn. "No, no, that's not it at all," came his quick and smooth reply as he tried to cover his feelings of guilt for not going back to the Three Broomsticks since their last encounter. "Just thought I'd check this place out for once."

"And what do you think, now that you're here?" asked Rosmerta.

"Not really the same ambience," he replied with a slight smile.

The bartender was wiping glasses with a questionably clean rag. "Now, lad, you watch yourself with what you say in here."

Rosmerta turned to the barkeep. "You settle down now, Aberforth. I come here often enough for you. And Professor O'Malley meant no harm."

"I just don't trust him," stated Aberforth as he eyed O'Malley closely. "Seems too suspicious to me. Oh, yes, probably a Slytherin back when he was younger."

O'Malley raised an eyebrow, but Rosmerta put a hand on his to reassure him as she turned back to Aberforth. "Don't be silly, AC here is from Australia."

AC raised his glass slightly and smiled as he said, "Yeah, Australia!"

"Don't speak like he's from Australia," replied the bartender without talking his eyes off of AC. "Still _smells_ like a Slytherin."

Rosmerta took AC by the hand as she stood up and started to walk out of the establishment. Calling back over her shoulder she stated loudly, "We don't have to stay here for this sort of treatment. Put his drink on my tab, Abe!"

AC dropped his glass on the counter as he was pulled off of his stool and followed the woman who literally dragged him out of the Hogs Head Inn. He waved his hand slightly at the bartender right before he was spun around by the pull of Rosmerta's arm.

Once they had arrived at the back steps to the Three Broomsticks, Rosmerta sat down, finally letting go of AC's hand.

"What in Merlin's name was that about?" asked a bewildered O'Malley.

Rosmerta rolled her eyes at the question. "Really? Couldn't you tell he was reading you like a book?"

AC stepped back and looked at Rosmerta through narrowed eyes.

"Still not following me?" She took a deep breath as she placed her hands on her lap. "Aberforth Dumbledore can read people quite well, and he had already deduced that you were a Slytherin _and_ that you're not _really_ from Australia. How many more of your secrets do you want him to discover? And just because he's not openly on speaking terms with his brother, Albus, does not mean that the information he learns about you won't get back to the headmaster who also happens to be your boss."

AC was still a little stunned by her pronouncement. "So, you don't believe me that I am from Australia?"

"Merlin, no," Rosmerta said with a laugh. "Of course you're not. Your trail is good, AC, but if Albus Dumbledore _really_ wanted to look into your background he would find out where it runs out with no real information."

AC started to get uncomfortable with what she was telling him.

Rosmerta noticed his discomfort as he started to shift back and forth. "Relax, AC, it's my job to read people. I do run a tavern after all. We don't just cater to school kids. But then again, some of them do need to be watched closely, too."

AC was about to say something when she put her hand up. "Don't worry, I'm not about to tell anybody. And with dealing with all sorts of witches and wizards I have developed some pretty good occlumency shields. So, whatever secrets you do have, they're safe with me."

AC was now pacing back and forth in front of her, cursing himself for allowing his emotions to show forth. He told himself he was caught off guard by her presence there, and then by her declaration she had figured out he wasn't who he said he was. He stopped and looked at her. "What is the point of this? I am a magical historian and I have earned my position here at Hogwarts."

"I'm sure you have, AC," she replied while trying to refrain from smiling. "But I'm not really worried about that, and I am not about to tell anyone anything I know about you."

"And what _do_ you know?" he asked pointedly.

Her hands were now on her hips as she shook her head slightly in frustration with his attitude. "I already told you, you're not Australian. Yes, you did publish some papers and speak at various meetings over the past several years, but there is no solid record of who you are and where you came from before five years ago. And no, I don't think you're some sort of Death Eater in disguise."

"Why?" he asked simply. "Why would you look into my background?"

She rolled her eyes at him and took a deep breath. "Because I didn't really know anything about you. And I figured I ought to learn about the mysterious man whom I thought I was falling in love with." She then turned away from him.

There was an awkward silence for over a minute as AC tried to figure out what he was going to say next. "I never meant to hurt you or anyone. I never meant…"

Rosetta turned around and looked at him and cut him off mid sentence. "No one is accusing you of anything here tonight," she said sharply.

AC held his hands up for a moment and then sat down heavily on the steps beside her. "So, if you say that I'm not a scholar from Australia, then who do you think I am?"

Rosmerta smiled to herself as she realised that he essentially admitted to her that she was right. "Well, I have a couple of theories, although I am not sure which one to believe."

AC leaned back against the stairs and he then asked her to explain her theories to him.

Rosmerta looked at him for a moment and gave a brief smile, but she looked away as she started her reply. "You could be a fugitive; on the run from someplace or someone, probably for some horrific crime. _But,_ if that was the case, choosing to 'hide' by posing as a teacher and directly under the scrutiny of Albus blah-blah-blah Dumbledore would have to be one of the most foolish plans ever. Or you simply think you're smarter than the old coot. But either way, that option is most unlikely."

"Oh, good, so you don't think I'm a criminal," added AC with a slight chuckle. "Which would fall nicely into my grand scheme, if I was one."

"I'm sure you have a grand scheme either way," came her retort, "however the motivation for this grand scheme and the actual goals of said scheme are still unknown, well, at least to me they are still unknown." Rosmerta took a deep breath and then she continued, "On the other hand, you could be working for some organisation, such as the Death Eaters, or some other radical group, and you're trying to surreptitiously infiltrate Hogwarts. However, that wouldn't make sense based on the lessons you've been teaching at the school from what the students and even the staff from Hogwarts have been talking about."

"So, another version of a criminal, and you've already seemed to have ruled that one out," observed AC.

Rosmerta simply shrugged her shoulders at his comment and then she continued, "Or you're a plant from the government, trying to infiltrate the school on behalf of Fudge, or even the ICW, for some unknown reason. Maybe you're trying to dig up dirt on Albus blah-blah-blah," she stated without a smile or a smirk.

AC simply raised an eyebrow to her comments. Noting that he did not actually comment on this, she then continued, "Or perhaps you are a spy for another country, sent here to learn the secrets of Hogwarts and the British Magical World. Or maybe you are an Auror, working undercover, trying to discover some secret about the castle, or the faculty, or more than likely, about the Boy Who Lived."

AC actually smiled at her most recent proposed explanations. "So, I could be some rogue, or some radical, or even a spy. All of which could be quite dashing and dangerous jobs," he added. "However, I am nothing more than a simple history professor."

Rosmerta laughed at his statement. "Simple, you are not, Doctor O'Malley."

AC smiled a little more at her comment, and then he hesitated a moment before he asked her, "So, with all of your theories, what do you really believe?"

Rosmerta tilted her head slightly and then rested her chin on her hands. "I don't think any of those theories actually make sense."

AC raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her conclusion. "So, I am just a complicated history professor."

Rosmerta looked into his eyes before adding, "Or a time traveller from the future."

AC had to stop himself from allowing his jaw to drop. "A time traveller? You make it sound like I'm someone from some sort of muggle science fiction story."

"Muggle science fiction?" asked Rosmerta irritably. "Everything about our world _is_ like muggle science fiction. That's what magic would be to them, if they didn't believe it was some evil work of demons. So, considering that we are here in the shadows of a magical castle with more secrets than we could ever imagine, and we both can use a fancy piece of wood to make things appear or disappear, then why would it be so odd for you to be a time traveller?"

"And why _would_ I be traveling in time?" asked AC with a laugh.

"Perhaps you have some wrong you need to right," she said plainly. "Maybe it's to avenge your wife, you did state that everything you do, you do for her memory. But then again, and more than likely, it somehow may have something to do with the Boy Who Lived. Who knows, maybe even both."

"That's about the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," protested AC.

"Then tell me, why are the hairs of your nose flaring in a way that you only do when you are lying," observed Rosmerta.

"What are you talking about now?" questioned AC who was surprised by her most recent accusation.

"Look, I own a tavern. Lots of students from Hogwarts come through, as you well know, as do many witches and wizards," she began to explain. "Many of those people have less than honourable thoughts in mind when they arrive. Out of a necessity for my business, I have become quite good at passive legillemency, and as I said before, I have also developed formidable occlumency shields. Sometimes a bartender needs to be able to keep secrets. And it wasn't hard to detect that you were being less than truthful when you claimed my theory was ridiculous. So, would you care to explain anything further, or are you planning to obliviate me now that I have discovered your deep, dark secret?"

AC shook his head slightly before looking her directly in her eyes. "I would never obliviate you. I would never harm you," he added softly.

The two sat in silence on the steps, staring at each other, trying to guess the other's thoughts without using any magic.

Rosmerta broke the silence first. "You once confessed to me that you regretted something about your past. And that somehow I reminded you of that event. So, tell me, AC, and no flaring of your nose hairs when you answer me, what did you do to _me_ in the past? Or, in your past?"

AC was startled and he could not keep the surprise off of his face this time. "What are you talking about?" he protested again.

"Your nose hairs are flaring, mister," she snapped at him.

He stared at her, blankly, trying to figure what the words were that he could use to explain himself. Rosmerta, however, spoke for him. "Look, you already apologised to me once, even when I didn't know that it was me who you had wronged."

AC let out a loud sigh and looked at her and tried to force a smile. "Promise not to kill me when I'm done?"

Rosmerta smiled back, "Yes, I promise. But if you raped me or worse, I might still hurt you," she added with a little less of a smile.

AC nodded in understanding. "You may have to define worse," he said trying to lighten the mood. Then he continued more gently, "There was a time, and it hasn't happened yet, and I can assure you that it most definitely will not happen, that I used the imperious curse on you."

He let out an even louder sigh.

She stared right back at him, "So, what did you make me do? Kill somebody? Steal for you? Give you money? Spy on someone?"

"I had you give something to someone else, and I had _you_ imperious _them_ to bring said object to another person," he explained without looking at her face.

"Did your little plot work? Who were you working for when you did this?" she asked quietly.

"No, it did not work," he said with clear sadness in his voice. But it was clear to Rosmerta it was not a sadness about the failure of what he tried to do, but more likely remorse for what he had tried to do.

Slowly he stood up and paced back and forth. "I was an idiot in my youth. I foolishly accepted the things I was taught as a child. I learned the hard way that I trusted the wrong people." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he finished his declaration.

Rosmerta rose and stood behind him, gently placing a hand on his. "Obviously something changed for you. I am sure that it had something to do with your wife." She slowly began to rub circles on the back of his hand. "I don't want to know who you were, or even when this all happened, as long as you can assure me that it won't happen again."

"I am determined to make sure those events don't happen," he said through gritted teeth as he recalled the mission he was given by the Dark Lord.

"You can't go back to her," Rosmerta added. "I'm sure you know that."

AC continued to face away from her. "Yes, of course I know that. My goal is to allow my younger self the opportunity to grow old with her." As he thought of Astoria, he allowed a tear to run down his cheek.

"You don't have to do this all alone," she whispered as she leaned her head on the back of his shoulder.

He closed his eyes as he considered her words. AC debated with himself how much he could tell her. She had been able to deduce so much about him, and then he shivered slightly as he considered the possibility that others might see through him and figure out his secrets.

Feeling him shake beneath her, she stepped back and then spoke up. "Don't worry," she said reassuringly, "I doubt anyone else will figure out your true story. They're all witches and wizards. They all think muggles are stuck in the eighteenth or nineteenth century."

AC actually managed to let out a slight laugh at her comment before turning around to face her once more. He took her hands in his as then frowned before he explained himself. "I really can't promise anything. I don't know what this means, your knowing so much about me and about my plans." AC swallowed hard and then continued once more, "But actually, right now, I could use a little advice for the next steps that I need to take."

* * *

8.2

* * *

AC had spoken with Rosmerta about how to get the students to help him with what might be a dangerous endeavour, and to do so in a way that would hopefully not make him as blatantly guilty of child endangerment as Dumbledore had been when he repeatedly had allowed countless dangers into the school. First he would have to get the students to work on history projects, and direct them to an interest in the Chamber of Secrets. The overly simplified idea of saying 'Hey kids, who wants to go find a secret chamber that may have a deadly mythical beast hiding in it?' would have managed to get some of the students willing to help out, but it would have led to too many questions, and most likely too many problems.

So, instead he had once again assigned work groups, and the groups were given tasks to work on about the history of the founders. He made sure to have students from different houses studying the different founders, and the work groups he had used the previous year seemed to work well, or at least, that was what he told the students and the other faculty. Which led to Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, Leanne Jeffries, Wayne Hopkins, Morag MacDougal and Anthony Goldstein all working together again, and somehow they managed to be assigned to work on Salazar Slytherin.

Professor O'Malley had given a little background to the entire class about each of the founders. When it came time to discuss Salazar Slytherin, he did make a brief mention of the Chamber of Secrets, and the rumours that it had been opened many years previously, although no one seemed able to prove that. AC was correct in that this tidbit of information was enough to pique the curiosity of the second year students. This resulted in the meeting he had with this group after class one afternoon as they were asking about more information about the Chamber and the rumours of it possibly having been opened.

AC sat behind his desk and looked at the gathered students. "You need to research this yourselves, as that is the assignment. However, I can give you a little direction. Those rumours about the Chamber of Secrets having been opened, well they occurred about fifty years ago. There was also a report of a student dying. Accusations were made, but nothing was ever proven about who was actually responsible."

"But who died?" asked Hermione, always wanting to get as much information as possible.

AC put a hand to his chin as he considered her question. "I believe that you all have enough information to begin your research. Why don't you all meet with me again next week, then you can let me know how you are coming along?"

The group quickly agreed. As they were about to leave Wayne Hopkins muttered that this class wasn't really teaching them any magic, just history. AC called out to the group. "Mr. Hopkins, while you are not learning any practical applications of magic directly in my class, I would like to be the first to let you know that a couple of your professors have proposed to reinstate a duelling club here at Hogwarts. I do believe that Professors Flitwick, Snape and Lockhart have all agreed to help out. There should be a formal announcement about this new club later this week."

The students all seemed to get excited over this new development. And Professor O'Malley was proven correct, as at dinner that night the headmaster did announce the starting of the new Duelling Club. The first meeting would be in two weeks, sign ups would be done in the common rooms for each house, and an appropriate sized classroom would be used depending on how many students chose to participate.

One week later the students returned to meet with Professor O'Malley. They had learned that there was a student, Myrtle Warren, who had mysteriously died in a girl's bathroom on the first floor in 1943. Hermione had a stack of parchment, her notes from her study on the topic, and placed it on the desk in front of her.

"So what have you discovered?" asked Professor O'Malley.

"The last student who died in Hogwarts was a muggle-born, Myrtle Warren, and her body was found in the girl's bathroom on the first floor," stated Hermione, proud of the facts which she had uncovered.

AC nodded slightly. "And how, exactly, did Miss Warren die?"

"Well, no one knows," replied Hermione, frustrated over the fact she could not discover that particular information.

Morag then added, "We did learn that she has been haunting the bathroom, and she particularly haunted the girl who found her body. That girl even went to file a complaint with the Ministry of Magic, and it was after that that her ghost, Myrtle that is, was confined to the school."

AC raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so, you've spoken with the ghost, then?"

Wayne Hopkins furrowed his brow. "No, no we haven't. Why would we do that?"

"Have you learned how she died? Or anything about her death?" asked the professor.

"Well, no, Hermione already said we don't know how she died," replied Leanne for the group, "but how do we know that it is connected to the Chamber of Secrets?"

"How do we know it isn't? What exactly do we know about the Chamber? Does it even really exist? If someone has opened it, how did they do it and why would they not tell anyone? And who would have or could have done it? You see," continued O'Malley, "you need so much more information. You have only just started to investigate this whole thing."

"But sir," questioned Daphne, "if this is all connected, why didn't the Ministry, or the faculty of Hogwarts investigate her death and the Chamber?"

O'Malley tilted his head to the side. "Perhaps they did, or perhaps they didn't. But then again, even if they did investigate, what kind of investigation would have been done? Would it have been as thorough as, say, an investigation by the muggle Scotland Yard? If there was no magical explanation for the events as far as they could determine, then what more would the Ministry, or the school for that matter, have done once they found nothing helpful?"

Draco scoffed, "Who in their right mind would ever trust the ministry, or this school, to do a proper investigation into anything? Didn't the last war with Voldemort teach anybody anything?"

Everyone stared at Draco, including AC. Draco realised that what he had said had caused everyone to wonder. After all, it was common knowledge that his father had been acquitted of being a Death Eater all those years ago. "I'm just stating what everyone, including the Daily Prophet, refuses to acknowledge. Right or wrong, the way the ministry handled all of the Death Eaters was no based on true facts or evidence."

AC nodded in agreement, surprised that this version of his younger self would make such a bold statement. Perhaps the change in events during Draco's first year in school had a real effect on him and his outlook.

"Well, that is an interesting way to look at it," acknowledged the professor. "Now, you do have more work to do, so you best be on your way."

* * *

8.3

* * *

The Duelling Club was scheduled to meet in the Great Hall after dinner as nearly all of the students had signed up. To deal with the large number of students, the school was divided up into years, with the first through third years in one group, the fourth and fifth years in a second group, and the sixth and seventh years were in their own group. The first meeting was being held for the younger students. Professors Snape, Lockhart and Flitwick were standing in front of the teacher's table at the front of the room, with the group of students standing below them.

"Now, children," began Professor Lockhart, "we will begin to teach you the fine art of duelling, which, as Professor Flitwick is well aware, being a seven time champion on the international duelling circuit, can be pretty tricky and involve some advanced spell work. To begin, however, perhaps, Professor Snape would be willing to join me in a demonstration of a duel."

Snape sneered briefly, as he deduced that he was chosen for the duel as Lockhart had presumed he would be easier for him than a former duelling champion. Snape actually thought this should be fun. Professor Flitwick then conjured a duelling arena, an elevated platform, in front of the students. Snape and Lockhart then proceeded to stand on opposite ends of the platform. Professor Lockhart then explained to the students the basic rules of a formal duel, such as in competition.

"You and your opponent will turn and face each other, then bow," he said as he turned to face the potions professor and he bowed with a large grin.

Snape bowed and tried to hide his sneer, but most of the students noticed the look that he had given the DADA professor.

"Then, once you have seen to the formalities, the duel shall begin," stated Lockhart. He then turned to face Snape as he dramatically waved his arm in the air, preparing to cast a spell.

However, before he did more than a flourish with his hand, Snape snapped his wand and stated "expelliarmus" and a scarlet light shot forth from his wand, and connected with Lockhart's hand. Lockhart was then thrown backwards slightly as his wand came flying out of his hand towards the head of Slytherin House. Snape caught the wand with his left hand and then turned to face the students. The Slytherin students started to cheer, and were soon joined by most of the other students.

Filius Flitwick then stepped forward and addressed the students. "That is an example of why you should never underestimate your opponent or dilly dally during a duel."

Many of the students laughed at his comment.

Lockhart stood up and tried to save face, "Of course, Professor Flitwick, I only wanted to demonstrate to all these children the importance of focusing on your opponent and not giving them an easy opening."

Snape sneered at the man and then he tossed his wand back to him, purposely causing it to land several feet in front of him.

Lockhart retrieved his wand and then turned back to the students. "Very well, then, why don't we have everyone pair up and try practicing duelling. You may use a simple stunning hex, or a stinging hex. You may choose to defend yourself with a shield, or even try to disarm your opponent."

The students began to pair up and soon spells were being cast all over the room, with students calling out in surprise as they were hit by stinging hexes or had their wands removed from their hands. Professor Flitwick shook his head at the chaos and cast a loud blasting curse towards the ceiling, thus getting the attention of all of the students.

"Perhaps we should have a simpler format right now, and choose a couple of our fine students to try a duel up here on the platform," stated the diminutive professor.

"Good, good, jolly good," agreed the DADA professor. "We should have Harry Potter come up and show us just how proficient he is with these spells," he exclaimed, secretly hoping that the famous young student would embarrass himself more than he had done just a few minutes earlier.

Harry reluctantly climbed up onto the platform as Snape looked out over the audience. He considered calling his godson, but he knew that he had befriended the son of James Potter, at least to some extent, so he decided to pick another student from his house. "Theodore Nott," called out the potions professor, "why don't you come up and face off against our little celebrity."

The professors stepped off of the platform back to the stage where the faculty table was located. Flitwick then conjured a small box and stood on top of it. "We shall begin on the count of three after the two face each other and bow, just as was demonstrated earlier."

Harry and Theo faced each other and slowly bowed slightly, neither one daring to take their eyes off of their opponent. Filius then counted out "One, two, three, begin!"

Immediately upon hearing the professor call out "three" Nott began casting stunners. Harry stepped out of the way of the first two and then erected a shield to deflect the third spell. Harry then responded with an attempt to disarm Theo, but the Slytherin easily side stepped the spell.

Nott did not want this duel to continue for much longer, so he relied on a spell his father had taught him to impress others within Slytherin. "Serpensortia!" he called out and a white light flashed from his wand. A large black snake appeared near Harry and started to look at its surroundings. Many of the students gasped, a first year muggle born girl in Hufflepuff fainted at the sight. The snake looked around once more and started to move towards the edge of the platform, right towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. The asp started to raise its head, appearing as though it was ready to strike. More students gasped and cried out, and a second year Ravenclaw student fainted.

Justin was speechless seeing the snake come towards him. Harry then called out, "No! Stop! Leave him alone!"

The other students only heard Harry making hissing sounds and they gasped. The snake hesitated but still seemed ready to strike as it bobbed its head up and down. Professor Snape then cast a blasting hex at the snake which was killed instantly.

Many of the students just stared at Harry in fear.

"What were you trying to do?" called out a second year from Hufflepuff. "Were you telling the snake to attack Justin?"

Other students were now calling out to Harry. Harry couldn't understand what everyone's problem was. Professor Flitwick quickly pulled Harry off of the platform, while Snape decided to end the lesson and dismissed everyone back to their rooms. Snape then turned and briefly looked at Harry, narrowing his eyes at the Gryffindor who surprisingly had the ability to speak with snakes.

Flitwick sat Harry down next to the faculty dining table. "Do you understand what just happened?"

Harry was still confused, "Nott used a spell to create a snake. I saw it moving towards Justin and I just told the snake not to do anything. I tried to tell the snake to stop."

Filius sighed and then looked at Harry as he took a deep breath. "You didn't say anything that any of us could understand, Mr. Potter," said the charms professor gently.

"But, I clearly said 'No' and 'stop', I didn't say anything else, really," said Harry defensively.

"Mr. Potter, Harry," began Flitwick once again, "all that any of us in the room heard was a hissing sound when you spoke to the snake. Apparently you have the ability to speak Parseltongue."

"Parsel-what? I don't understand," said Harry, his frustration growing.

"The language of snakes, Mr. Potter," said the professor.

Professor O'Malley had walked up behind Professor Flitwick and he had a slightly pained look on his face. "What Professor Flitwick is saying, Harry, is that you can speak to snakes." He paused a moment as his words sunk in. "Very few people have ever had that ability. Some in the wizarding world consider it a dark art, others just find it strange. Since it is so rare, when someone can do this, it often scares other witches and wizards."

Harry looked back and forth between the two teachers. "Who else can speak this Parseltongue?"

"It is well documented that Salazar Slytherin spoke it, and he apparently had written much of his memoirs in Parseltongue, so few could ever read his writings, and therefor most of his works were never translated and never read," explained the history professor.

Harry's eyes went wide as he heard this. But then O'Malley continued, "And it is widely believed that He Who Must Not Be Named also spoke Parseltongue."

"But how is it that I can speak it?" wondered the confused second year student.

"I am not sure," answered the professor. "But I think you should head back to your common room, and to your friends. We can speak of this more tomorrow, after you are done with your classes."

"But the students," said Harry as he worried about what had transpired, "some of them think that I was telling the snake to attack Justin, or maybe Theo. I wouldn't do that!"

"I know, Harry, I know," said O'Malley as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder to reassure him. "We'll work on sorting all of this out later. Now, go get some rest."

* * *

8.4

* * *

Later the next week, Harry and his study group for the History of Magic was once again meeting with Professor O'Malley. The students seemed to all be uncomfortable as several seemed to be on edge and fidgeting in their seats.

Professor O'Malley was aware of the discomfort, so he addressed the group. "What seems to be the problem here?"

The group looked back and forth until finally Morag spoke up. "Harry is a Parselmouth. Doesn't that mean he is evil?"

"But can't only pure-blooded wizards speak Parseltongue? And only dark ones at that?" asked Anthony Goldstein.

"Well, Harry is a half-blood, so obviously that is wrong, Goldstein," snapped Daphne.

The professor tried to diffuse the situation. "Now, now, let's not jump to any conclusions here, shall we." He looked around at the group to be sure he had the attention of all of them. "Before the incident last week at the duelling club, what did you all think about your classmate, Harry?"

"He was a good guy," stated Wayne.

"He's always been a good guy," added Hermione who smiled at Harry.

"He's trustworthy," said Draco, not looking at anyone.

"And he's brave," said Daphne.

"Of course he is," added Leanne, "he's a bloody Gryffindor."

"Not all Gryffs are brave," retorted Draco.

Professor O'Malley smiled at the group as he interrupted them. "See, Harry is someone you all have gotten to know for who he is. Just because none of you, Harry included, knew that he could speak to snakes before last week, well, that does not change anything about who Harry is. He is still your friend and your classmate."

"Never said he was my friend," snarked Draco.

O'Malley raised an eyebrow at the comment and then ignored it. "So, what are the issues here, and what do we need to do now?"

"We still need to figure out about the Chamber of Secrets," added Hermione.

O'Malley noticed that Leanne and Wayne were still uncomfortable as they shifted in their seats. "What is wrong, you two?"

Leanne looked at Wayne and then at the professor. "Well, it's just that, well, the Chamber, it _is_ a secret, and has been for so long, and maybe we really shouldn't be looking into it at all."

"Yeah," added Wayne numbly, looking towards his shoes, "what she said."

O'Malley sat back into his chair and let out a deep breath. "This is not an assignment that will affect your grades. So, if any of you," he added as he looked at each of the eight students, "would like to not continue with this project, that is okay, and you can feel free to leave the group."

"Really, we don't have to stay?" asked a surprised Leanne.

"Really," answered O'Malley with a gentle smile.

Morag and Anthony looked at each other and then at the professor. "Well, I, we, do have a lot of other work for our other classes," she said as she held onto her books a little more tightly. "So, if we could be excused from this."

"It really is interesting, I guess," added Anthony, "but if I could choose this or catching up on other work…" He left his sentence unfinished.

"I said it is fine, you don't have to stay," said O'Malley.

Then the two Badgers and the two Eagles promptly stood up, excused themselves, and left the room.

"So, are you four still interested in this project?" the professor asked.

All four readily agreed. Hermione was the first one to ask a question after they had agreed to continue the project. "But what do we do with this information?"

AC smiled slightly at her question. "What information have you already gathered?"

Hermione bit her lip as she considered his question before she responded, "We know that there were rumours of the Chamber of Secrets having been opened. We know that a muggle-born student died mysteriously. And we know that Harry is a Parselmouth."

"I'm sure you can come up with more about that," replied the professor. "Why don't you all work on this and come back to see me next week?"

As the group left the classroom Draco was the first one to speak. "So, scarhead, how did you become a parselmouth in the first place? Is it a family trait?"

Before Harry could respond, Daphne added, "I'm surprised that you weren't sorted into Slytherin if you can speak with snakes."

Harry's face flushed at her comments. Hermione noticed it but decided not to say anything. As Harry had stopped walking when the comments were directed at him the other two all turned and faced Harry, and they too noticed the redness.

"What's wrong, Potter?" demanded Draco.

"No, that can't possibly be true," stated Daphne.

"What can't be true?" asked Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath and then admitted to the others, "The hat initially tried to sort me into Slytherin."

"What? No way!" exclaimed Draco. "How could it have done that?" Draco paused for a moment before adding, "Why didn't it sort you into our house?"

Hermione wasn't completely surprised as she recalled discussing with the hat about whether she should be in Gryffindor or in Ravenclaw.

Harry rubbed his forehead briefly before he answered Draco. "The hat said that I could do great things if I was in Slytherin. But I had also learned that my parents had been in Gryffindor, and the hat agreed that I could be sorted there."

"That's not important," said Hermione, hoping to change the subject as she could tell that her friend was uncomfortable talking about which house he was sorted into and why. "We need to figure out what to do next."

Daphne rolled her eyes then she answered simply, "Fine. So, what do we know about this Myrtle person? We know she died. You said that she was found in the girl's bathroom on the first floor."

"You mean the one that the students say is haunted?" wondered Draco.

"Yes, that one," confirmed Hermione.

"Then why are we not investigating that?" asked Daphne.

As they did not have a class at this time, the group made their way to the first floor girl's bathroom. As Daphne and Hermione entered the room, Harry and Draco stop in the hall, feeling uncomfortable.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Hermione.

"In there? It's the girls room," stated Harry as if their hesitancy should have been obvious.

"There's no one in here," said Daphne, "there never is. We all learned to avoid this bathroom because of the ghost. She's kind of sad, as in depressing. And who wants to be bothered by a ghost when you need to use the loo."

Harry stepped into the bathroom and was quickly followed by Draco. Draco looked around and shook his head.

"So, this is what one looks like? Not much different from the boy's bathrooms," he stated. "Don't see what the whole big deal as about a stupid girl's bathroom in the first place."

Just as Draco said this there was a large splash from a nearby stall as a ghost erupted from the toilet and then flew towards them. The translucent image of a teenage girl with thick rimmed glasses floated in front of the foursome.

"Get out of my bathroom!" called out Myrtle. "If you're just here to make fun of me you better leave now! I can haunt you anywhere you try to use a bathroom in the entire castle if you don't leave me alone!"

The four just stared at her, startled by her sudden appearance as well as her outburst.

Hermione stepped a little closer and started to speak to her. "Are you Myrtle? Myrtle Warren?"

The ghost paused in front of Hermione, shock clearly evident on the pale face. "Yes, but, how, but who are you? How do you know me?" The ghost was obviously puzzled by having anyone, a student in particular, address her and ask her questions.

"My name is Hermione Granger," began the bushy haired girl. "I'm a muggle born witch, just as you were."

Myrtle narrowed her eyes at the Gryffindor who was addressing her. "If you're a muggle born then why are you here to make fun of me?"

"We're not here to make fun of you," interjected Daphne. "We have some questions for you. We were doing a project for one of our professors, and we wanted to learn more about you."

Myrtle spun in the air, looking back and forth between the girls in front of her. "Why? Are you all trying to make fun of me?"

"We just want to understand what happened to you," said Hermione, trying to calm the ghost down who was getting agitated once again.

"Why are there boys in my bathroom?" demanded Myrtle. "Boys shouldn't come into the girl's bathroom. Only bad boys come into this bathroom!"

Draco and Harry looked at each other and then back at the ghost.

"We've never been in here before," stated Harry, hoping to ease the tension.

Myrtle flew right into Harry's face and stared at him for a little while. "You must be the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter," said Myrtle. "I've heard about you from the girls in the school. Yes, I listen to what everyone says. And I have to agree with the girls, you are kind of cute."

Harry blushed, Draco snickered and Daphne tried to hide a smile at the ghost's comments to Harry.

"You don't look like you're a mean nasty boy, not like that last one who came in here," said Myrtle, who seemed a little calmer.

"What boy?" asked Hermione, trying to get the conversation with the ghost back on track.

"The mean boy," explained Myrtle as though everyone should know what she was talking about.

The ghost looked at all of the blank faces. "The one who shouldn't have come in here in the first place, the one who spoke to the monster, the one who did this to me!"

Draco took a step back from the witch as her voice was getting more shrill with each statement she made about the 'bad boy.'

"That is what we wanted to learn from you," said Daphne quietly. "You see, no one _really_ knows what happened to you. All we know is that you were found in here, all those years ago, and you had died, but no one knew why. There was a rumour that it had to do with a large spider that one of the students had as a pet."

The group had already discussed the information they had learned about Rubeus Hagrid being expelled for supposedly causing the death of a student by raising a giant spider, but there was no evidence of any wrong doing, other than Hagrid having had a giant spider he thought of as a pet.

"There weren't any spiders," said Myrtle as she crossed her arms over her chest. "And besides, that big student was always nice to me, he was probably the only one who never made fun of me."

"You knew Hagrid?" asked Harry tentatively.

"Hagrid, yes, that was his name," said Myrtle as she sat herself on the floor in the middle of the bathroom. "I heard he was kicked out of school, and it wasn't even his fault."

"Whose fault was it then?" prodded Hermione. "We really would like to know, we would like to set the record straight."

"It won't do you any good if I tell you what happened," said Myrtle sadly. "No one ever believed me, no one ever listened to me really. Besides, no one else can open the doors."

The students looked around the bathroom and then back at the ghost. "What doors? We didn't have any problem opening the bathroom door," said Draco, trying to hide his frustration with the ghost.

"Not those doors," snapped Myrtle, "the other doors, the secret doors, behind the sinks. Only the bad boy was able to open them. No one else even knows that the doors are there. Not even the headmaster."

The students gave a collective gasp as they considered what Myrtle was telling them.

"What's behind the doors?" asked Hermione, trying to get back to the task at hand and learning what really happened and possibly learn about the Chamber of Secrets.

Myrtle became very agitated. She flew up off the floor and backed away from the students. "The eye, the horrible yellow glowing eye. You can't go back there, unless you want to join me here, in my bathroom forever." Then she turned to Harry, "You could join me here forever. Then I could have a friend! I'd let you share my toilet!"

Draco couldn't hold back his laughter at the comment from Myrtle.

Harry stammered a little before finally managing to tell the ghost that he felt he would be much happier not becoming a ghost any time soon.

"Who was the bad boy?" asked Hermione, trying to get the remainder of their questions answered.

"His name was Tom," said Myrtle. "He was in Slytherin, and he wasn't even a pure-blood, but many of the Slytherins thought that he was."

"Tom, Tom who?" asked Daphne.

"Tom, the one who the stupid professors actually gave an award to for supposedly saving the school by telling them that Hagrid's spider must have been responsible for my death." Myrtle then began to cry and moan once again.

Draco shook his head in frustration. "No, please, not more of her moaning."

Myrtle stopped her wailing as she heard Draco, then she screamed louder, flew up into the air and then dove down into one of the sinks and disappeared down the drain.

"Way to go Malfoy," snapped Daphne. "We were trying to get some more information from her before you made her even more upset."

"It's not my fault she is so temperamental," argued Draco.

After a moment of the four standing in silence, Draco added, "So, now what do we do? I don't plan on hanging out here until she decides to return."

Hermione started walking towards the door, "We need to figure out who Tom is, and figure out about this yellow eye that she described."

As the others followed her, Harry then spoke up. "If Myrtle said she wasn't killed by the spider, why wouldn't the DMLE have listened to her all those years ago?"

Draco actually answered the question first. "Think about it Potter, she said that this Tom person received some sort of reward. If the Aurors investigating what happened, if there even _was_ an investigation from the DMLE, because, for all we know the school kept it all internal, well why would they speak to a ghost when they had an upstanding student tell them who was responsible. After all, its clear that they believed him, as Hagrid was kicked out of school and had his wand snapped."

Harry then immediately turned and headed towards the stairs. "Where are you going, Potter?" asked Daphne.

"To the trophy room, on the sixth floor," he called back. "To see who received awards for service to the school."

"The trophy room is on the third floor," corrected Malfoy.

"No, it's not," argued Harry, passing him at the top of the steps.

Malfoy snorted as he caught up to Harry, then he pointed down the hallway to their left. "It's right over there." The group then followed Draco to the room down the hall. There were two large suits of armour on either side of the doorway, which Harry had recognised from when he had been to the Trophy Room previously during a detention, but he was sure it was on the sixth floor.

The group walked in to the large room and looked around the shelves and cabinets which displayed various trophies, urns and plaques. They found trophies for the House Cup, for the Quidditch Cup, and even one for the Tri-Wizard Champion from 1472, one Rigel Black.

"Here's a plaque that lists all of the head boys and head girls," called out Hermione. "Oh, look, head boy in 1977-1978 was…James Potter!"

Harry came over and looked at the plaque, and saw that his mother, Lily Evans, was listed as head girl for the same year.

"Professor McGonagall was head girl in 1953," pointed out Harry.

Hermione looked at the list and then was startled as she read the list. She commented quietly, "Someone named Tom Riddle was head boy in 1944."

"That's the year after Myrtle died," said Daphne.

"Myrtle said that it was someone named Tom who opened the secret doors in the bathroom," added Hermione.

Draco then spoke up. "I think we found our Tom," he said from the other side of the room.

The others joined him and found he was pointing at a plaque that stated "Awarded to Tom Riddle, For Special Services to the School."

"It's dated June 1943," he said simply.

"So, whoever this Tom Riddle is," said Hermione, "he is the one who had opened the secret doors and he may have killed Myrtle."

"And he was head boy," Daphne continued the thought. "If he is the one, he sure had a lot of people fooled to give him such awards and such a position."

"Obviously he must have been a Slytherin," observed Draco.

"Why? Because he killed someone?" asked Hermione.

"No, because he was cunning enough to get named head boy and throw everyone off of his trail if he really did kill Myrtle," stated Draco as if it should have been obvious. After a moment of confused silence he then explained, "Look, no one, not even a pure blood, is going to be named head boy if the school thinks he actually killed someone. Or if there is a rumour that he might have hurt someone. They only pick the student who the faculty think represents the best wizard or witch in that year. If Tom Riddle was chosen head boy, and he had killed another student, even if it was a mud, I mean a muggle-born, then no one would have even been suspicious that he had done such a thing. So, to be that cunning, that careful, that he had actually killed a student then framed someone else for it and still was named head boy…"

"That is why he must have been in Slytherin," agreed Harry, finishing Draco's thought.

"Well, we have a lot more information," stated Hermione.

"Maybe we should bring it to Professor O'Malley, tell him what we learned today," said Harry.

"It is getting late in the afternoon, maybe we should head to dinner," pointed out Draco.

The group agreed to try and meet with Professor O'Malley later in the week and made their way out of the Trophy Room and into the hallway. Stepping past the two suits of armour the group stopped and surveyed their surroundings. They were not in the third floor hallway where they had entered. They were now on the sixth floor hallway. Harry recognised where they were and immediately called out to Draco, "I told you the room was on the sixth floor!"

The others just shook their heads as they made their way towards the stairs.

"Stupid bloody castle," muttered Draco as they made their way to dinner.

* * *

8.5

* * *

The following week, after their history class, the group had finally been able to meet with Professor O'Malley. They carefully explained what it was that they had learned.

"So, then what do you make of this yellow eye that Moaning Myrtle told you about?" asked the history of magic professor.

Hermione spoke softly, "It was rumoured that Salazar Slytherin had a basilisk as a familiar."

"But basilisks are illegal," commented Daphne.

Harry added, "And they don't just come from other snakes."

"Herpo the Foul was the first person to document how to hatch a basilisk," said Hermione, "however, the ministry, and even the ICW, has made it illegal to breed and raise basilisks."

Their professor smiled at the information which they had shared. "So, it could be that this Tom Riddle had found a way, through the girl's bathroom on the first floor, to enter Salazar's Chamber of Secrets, and found a basilisk."

"That's what we concluded," agreed Hermione.

"Then what is your next step in your research?" asked O'Malley.

"We were thinking we might try and enter the Chamber of Secrets," said Harry softly.

"Dangerous plans indeed," acknowledged the professor.

Draco snapped, "That's never stopped Potter before."

The group stood in front of O'Malley's desk in an awkward silence. "I suppose that I can accompany you on your little adventure, even if it is simply to make sure no one gets hurt, or worse."

They soon agreed to meet on Saturday morning, after most of the students had made their way to Hogsmeade for the day.

The students arrived at the professor's office, who had a small pack that looked like a book bag and another satchel with him. Then the five made their way down to the first floor and into the girl's bathroom. They looked around the room and tried to find any signs of a latch or magical door which they could open. However, their search was not yielding anything promising. After several minutes there was a splash from one of the toilets as Moaning Myrtle came to investigate what was going on in 'her' bathroom.

"So, you all came back, even the cute one," said Myrtle as she looked at Harry. Then the ghost gasped and flew back away from them when she noticed that they had a professor with them. "Uh, oh, you can't make me leave here, you know," she cried out with a shrill voice.

"No one is here to make you leave," said Professor O'Malley. "However, we are trying to find the way through the secret door, the same one that Tom Riddle used all those years ago."

"No!" exclaimed Myrtle. "You will let loose the yellow eye! Tom wanted to kill all of the muggle-born witches and wizards with the yellow eye!"

"We want to find the yellow eye," explained the professor, "and we want to make sure it doesn't hurt anyone else."

Myrtle seemed to calm down a little at this. "You will all probably die," she said morosely, then added with a little excitement, "if you do all die, I'll let you share my bathroom!"

"That's nice of you to offer," replied O'Malley, "but I don't expect that will happen."

"How did Tom Riddle get through the secret door?" asked Hermione, hoping that Myrtle might be of more help.

"I don't know, I never understood what he was saying," said Myrtle as she cried as she recalled the day she died. "He came into the bathroom, I was hiding in the middle stall, right behind me, and I heard a boy start talking. But he wasn't speaking any words that I understood. But I could tell it was a boy. And boys aren't supposed to come into the girls bathroom. So, I opened the door to my stall to yell at him to go away when all I saw was this big yellow eye. And I've been left here ever since."

"This Tom Riddle must have spoken in Parseltongue," stated Hermione as she tried to make sense of what had happened.

"Which would be why Myrtle couldn't understand what he was saying," continued Daphne.

"Then, perhaps someone who can speak Parseltongue can give it a go and try and open the door," said the professor.

"But if the basilisk is right behind whatever door opens?" asked Draco who was getting worried.

"I'll be prepared for that," stated AC, "but if we get the door opened, perhaps we should close our eyes and have Myrtle help us by telling us if there is anything behind the door."

Myrtle was hesitant at first but then she understood that someone needed her help and she quickly agreed as no one had ever asked for help before. Besides, she thought, she was already dead, what could possibly happen to her? She was a ghost.

AC turned to Harry, "Just try and speak like you were commanding that snake that Nott had conjured."

"Um, where is this door?" asked Harry nervously.

The professor stood in front of the middle stall, the one that Myrtle had indicated she had been hiding in when the incident happened all those years ago, and he pointed to the middle of the wall lined by sinks.

Harry swallowed hard and nodded, then he tried to speak. The others only heard a few hisses as Harry tried to say 'open', but the words came out in Parseltongue.

Suddenly there was a grinding sound as one of the sinks seemed to split in two and a hole opened up in the wall and the floor. Everyone held their breaths as the sink moved, and no one dared to close their eyes as they all were curious to see what was behind the door.

"Poo, there's nothing there, and you all looked anyway," complained Myrtle.

"Well, if something had happened, Myrtle," spoke the professor reassuringly, "and we all died, you would have been the only to be able to inform the others."

Myrtle looked at the professor and she would have blushed if she weren't a ghost. Then she considered his words some more and she left and flew down the toilet and back into the pipes.

After she had left, the group then made their way to the opening and saw what looked like a long slide, covered in moss.

"You don't expect us to slide down that, now, do you?" questioned Daphne.

AC frowned at what he saw and then looked at the students. "Perhaps Harry can speak again in Parseltongue and ask for some stairs."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and figured he might as well give it a try, then he hissed "Stairs" and suddenly the slide transformed into a narrow and winding staircase.

Hermione smiled at Harry as the professor started to lead the way down the stairs. The stairs ended in a tunnel that had been carved out of rocks. The group turned to their right and started making their way past some piles of rocks that had covered the floor after some minor cave-ins.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," muttered Draco.

"Thanks for the commentary, Han," snapped Harry.

Draco and Daphne both gave Harry a puzzled look, but Hermione couldn't help but laugh slightly.

As they continued up the hallway they came past a large snake skin, that they presumed must have been left behind by a giant basilisk.

"That must be at least fifty feet long," whispered a shocked Hermione.

"Could be sixty," added Daphne in a hushed voice.

Soon they came to an open cavern at the end of the tunnel which had a large ornate door with many intricate carvings of snakes.

"I presume that behind here is the Chamber of Secrets," announced O'Malley.

The students all nodded silently.

O'Malley pulled a large sack out of the bottomless bag he had with him. The students noticed that the bag seemed to hold something writhing around, but they did not hear any noises.

The professor turned to face Harry, "Care to try one more time?"

Harry nodded, stepped forward as once again he spoke with a hissing sound. "Open!" he commanded in Parseltongue. The snakes in the door retreated into the centre of the large circle, then the door slowly swung open towards them. Cautiously the group walked into the large room with very high ceilings. As they walked into the room the lamps on the walls started to glow and cast an eerie light across the chamber. In the middle of the room they saw a large statue, and assumed that it was a likeness of the famed founder.

The professor then called out to statue, "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"

The group of students just stared at him with shock and surprise. Before they could ask him why he had said that, O'Malley replied to the questioning eyes, "What? I read somewhere that was how he referred to himself."

Stones then began to slowly slide apart and they heard the sounds of something sliding along the rocks. A tunnel opened up from the middle of the statue of the founder, and soon they could see there was something moving in the shadows. O'Malley then turned to the students, "Quick, hide over there, behind that rubble," he said as he pointed to an area where some rocks had fallen.

He followed them to the area and they all stayed hidden behind the rocks. The sound of scraping grew louder as the large snake came out of the tunnel and O'Malley whispered that they needed to stay quiet. The professor then silently cursed the fact that he had not taken the time to cast a silencing spell over himself and the students. He then picked up the bag that was squirming, and opened it up and soon four roosters flew out of the back and up onto the rocks. The roosters clucked and squawked, but none of them crowed. AC could hear the basilisk sliding across the floor now and he decided he needed to do something to get the roosters to crow, so he cast his wand at a spot on the far wall as he shouted out "Lumos!"

His wand sent a beam of light that hit one of the lamps on the wall and caused it to glow a bright yellow and white light. Upon seeing he sudden appearance of the glowing light, several of the roosters began to crow. The group heard an agonised hissing sound and then suddenly the chamber grew silent.

AC muttered quietly, "Now, students, please don't tell anyone I brought you down here. Dumbledore would probably fire me for putting students at risk!"

"Nonsense, you were just helping us with a research project," protested Hermione.

"Besides, you brought roosters," added Harry. Then after an awkward silence he added, "Um, why did you bring those roosters?"

Daphne and Hermione rolled their eyes. "Because the sound of a rooster crowing can kill a basilisk," they said almost in unison.

The group then heard a different noise and O'Malley slowly stood up from behind the rubble and saw the roosters pecking at the eyes of the very motionless basilisk. A motionless basilisk that appeared to be over twenty meters long. "Oh my," he said slowly as he looked at the creature in front of him. "I didn't think it would be _that_ big!" Then he turned around to face the students. "It appears as though everything is safe now." And then he walked around the debris and towards the dead but gigantic reptile.

"Is it really safe to get close to it?" asked Hermione who was following behind.

By now the other three students were right behind her, not wanting anyone to think they were afraid.

"As long as you don't touch any of the fangs," stated the professor.

The group then made their way around the creature and eventually they even dared to touch the basilisk's skin. It felt slick but also rough if you moved your hand one way or another.

"See, snakes are defiantly _not_ slimy," observed Draco.

Looking around the room, Hermione spoke her mind, "So, this is the Chamber of Secrets and that was Salazar Slytherin's great secret?"

"It is not clear from what we know of history whether he intended to use the basilisk to attack those he disagreed with or simply to use it as a guard for the secrets hidden within his chamber," explained O'Malley.

Hermione shivered slightly at the comment from the professor. "But now what do we do with this? All of magical Britain would want to know about this. The Chamber of Secrets really exists."

"Is that really going to be useful for the magical population in general?" asked the professor. "If everyone hears that the chamber exists, then people will want to investigate it immediately. Some will take it as proof that one of the founders was against muggle borns, and even that he wanted to harm them. This could lead to even more division in our society. We don't even know what else is down here, and if some unscrupulous sorts manage to get a hold of anything down here, Merlin knows what might happen next."

The students stood still as they considered what their history of magic teacher had said. After a moment, Daphne spoke her thoughts.

"We could begin to investigate what we find down here ourselves," she said hesitantly at first. "We could prepare a statement, if necessary, but we might be able to find more truths about the history of this school and the four founders, and as no one else knows about it, we wouldn't be under any pressure to release anything until we are more sure of what we have found."

"Now that sounds like some very wise advise," agreed O'Malley.

The group then proceeded to explore the rest of the chamber. While the students were looking for any other rooms that may have lead off from the many hall they found themselves in, the professor used some dragon hide gloves and carefully removed several fangs, then placed them into an unbreakable bottle, sealed the bottle magically and placed the bottle into his backpack. He then took a special bottle from within his bag and he managed to fill it with poison from the basilisk, then he sealed this bottle and placed it in his bag as well.

Harry and Hermione called out when they found a doorway that was covered in cobwebs. The other students joined them and then the professor cleared away the cobwebs and dust with a banishing charm. He then inspected the doorway for any traps or wards, and after finding none, he slowly pushed the door open. Behind the door they found a dark room that had no lights that came on, so the professor cast a lumos spell on the tip of his wand. Suddenly they all saw that they were entering what appeared to be a library. In the middle was an old desk, with only a minimal amount of dust, and there were easily hundreds of books lining the shelves.

On the middle of the desk there was an old newspaper, a copy of the Daily Prophet. Professor O'Malley slowly approached the desk and inspected the newspaper. "Obviously someone was here within the past fifty years or so, as this paper is dated from 1941."

"But who would have come down here?" asked Hermione.

"Obviously it must have been Tom Riddle, if he was the one who released the basilisk when it killed Myrtle," replied Draco.

"I would have to guess that it was the man who called himself Lord Voldemort," suggested O'Malley.

The students stared at him, Daphne and Hermione each gasped slightly at his use of the name of the former Dark Lord.

O'Malley then pointed to a piece of parchment in the desk. On the top of the parchment was written the name "Tom Marvolo Riddle." Beneath that were several anagrams, or attempts at anagrams, as there were multiple groups of the letters from his name rearranged, finally resulting in the phrase "I am Lord Voldemort" at the bottom of the page.

The students gathered around the parchment and saw that the student who had his name on a plaque for a special award for service to the school, was indeed, the self titled Lord Voldemort.

"But what do we know about Tom Riddle?" asked Draco Malfoy. "Well, other than that he was head boy and performed a service to the school."

"Who was Tom Riddle, really?" asked Daphne.

"Perhaps the headmaster can help us with learning that information," replied the professor as he rubbed his beard.

Harry scratched the back of his head with his hand as he looked up at the professor. "But is that the best thing to do?" he wondered out loud.

"Of course we have to tell the headmaster, Harry," proclaimed Hermione, "he is the one in charge of everything here."

Draco rolled his eyes, andDaphne shook her head slightly.

"Of course I will discuss this with Professor Dumbledore," stated O'Malley, "and then we can sit down and discuss with him all of your concerns and all of the fascinating things which we have discovered.

* * *

 **AN: Writing this chapter was more difficult than I had imagined as it became more detailed with this stage of the adventure. Also, I have tried to deal with grammar, spelling, and continuity issues, so hopefully those are not a problem. Hopefully the next chapters will not take so long to finish. And it doesn't help that I have a whole other story running through my mind just begging to be written…**


	9. Chapter 9 - Meeting with Dumbledore

C9 Meeting with the headmaster

* * *

9.1

* * *

AC O'Malley sat down at the desk in his personal quarters as he looked back at his magically locked cabinet, complete with basilisk venom, basilisk fangs, and three small stone chests, each containing a horcrux. He figured that he should have two more within the next year, well before the Tri-Wizard Tournament debacle that lead to the death of one student and the return of Voldemort.

AC left his room and headed to the village where he joined Rosmerta for dinner. He smiled slightly as he made his way to meet with her at her tavern, to meet with the woman who he supposed was now his girlfriend for lack of a better term. Sitting down at the table in the tavern, the time traveller turned history professor sighed heavily as he considered all that he had done and all that he still needed to accomplish. Rosmerta came up from behind him, and heard his sigh. She started to rub his shoulders as she leaned in and kissed the top of his head.

AC gave a small smile to her as he turned to look at her. She slid into the chair next to him and he shook his head with slight confusion, "What did I do to make you like me so much? I know I don't deserve this, even after I told you what I had done, or would have done to you."

Rosmerta smiled broadly as she took one of his hands in hers. "First, you're not the same person who is supposed to place me under the Imperius curse in a few years. You have clearly changed. That's part of why you are here now. And the second reason is why you are here now. Your love for your wife. You are doing all of this so her future self and your future self will be spared what you went through. That is a dedication to another person that is impressive to anyone. If you have that capacity to love someone, I can't help but be drawn to that."

AC squeezed her hand slightly in appreciation of what she had said.

"Besides, I know all, or most, of you secrets," added Rosmerta, "so, either I prove to you I can and will keep them or I risk your vengeance, and I'd rather not risk that."

AC frowned at her comment. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you," he pleaded as he took both of her hands into his.

Rosmerta kissed him lightly on his cheek, "Of course I do, but I couldn't pass up the chance to tease you a little there."

AC closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair. "There is a lot I have done, but there is still so much more that I need to accomplish," he said, his fatigue evident in his voice.

"But you don't have to do it alone," said Rosmerta.

"It won't be getting any easier," he said, "and I still have to speak with the headmaster."

"I can't help you with that," she said softly, but then she added with a smirk, "but I can help you relax before you have to meet with him."

* * *

9.2

* * *

Gilderoy Lockhart was a master manipulator. He had excelled in his studies while he was a student at Hogwarts and he had been one of the top students in Ravenclaw house. However, his teachers remembered that he seemed much better at theory than he ever did in practical execution, so his fame and notoriety for his exploits as he expounded upon in his books was a surprise to many. His actual practical skill laid in the realm of memory magic, a secret he planned to keep with him to his grave. But to ensure his secrets remained safe and to help him learn more stories that could be turned into a new adventure, Lockhart had also developed skill in listening charms, magical eavesdropping as it were.

Gilderoy was thrilled to overhear something about the Chamber of Secrets from one such charm and the one voice he was able to definitely make out was that of fellow professor AC O'Malley. The DADA professor smiled to himself as he considered that a mere history professor should be an easy mark. Late one afternoon he was relieved to encounter Professor O'Malley in a hall where there was neither students or portraits.

"Doctor O'Malley," he called out to his colleague, "could I have a word with you a moment?"

AC paused as he was walking down the hall and turned to face the one who called out to him, "Why of course Lockhart, what can I do for you?"

"Let's just step inside the classroom, away from the halls, as the students should be coming by shortly," he said as he pointed to a doorway.

AC nodded and entered through the door that Lockhart was holding open. With his back to his fellow professor, he heard the word "imperio" called out from behind him and he felt a slight warm feeling come over him. O'Malley had not been unprepared and he had studied how to deal with this particular unforgivable, particularly after watching his classmate, Harry Potter, throw off the imperius curse as a fourth year student. He overwhelmed the curse and turned to face Professor Lockhart, keeping his face blank, wondering if his attacker could tell that he had thrown off the curse, and that he had done so quite easily.

Professor Lockhart closed the door behind him, and then he turned to face the history professor in front of him. "Now, professor, I command you to tell me all about what you know about the Chamber of Secrets. We both know that you can't resist my commands now."

AC nodded, and then in a monotone voice he replied, "The Chamber of Secrets are believed to be hidden somewhere in the castle, and were created by the founder, Salazar Slytherin."

Lockhart shook his head, "Everyone knows that, O'Malley. But you must tell me what you learned about it this year, who you were discussing it with recently. What secrets have you found out about the Chamber?"

"Oh, well, I know that it is supposed to be a secret," replied AC, keeping his tone soft and unemotional. "And I learned that Salazar hid it very well."

"I should just command you to show me this chamber," snapped Lockhart who was clearly no longer smiling. He waved his wand around in front of the other teacher and then exclaimed, feeling exasperated, "You will show me this chamber, and then I will make you forget all about it so that I can take the credit for finding the chamber."

Lockhart had not paid close attention to Professor O'Malley who had actually slid his wand into his hand. With a quick snap of his wrist he had grasped his wand, and then quickly called out "stupefy!" and a red light struck the DADA professor in the chest. Professor O'Malley sighed loudly, then he called for one of the school house elves to come to him. He quickly asked the house elf to fetch the headmaster immediately. A few minutes later the headmaster arrived with Professor McGonagall in tow.

"What seems to be the matter, AC?" he asked as he walked into the unused classroom.

Minerva gasped as she walked into the room and saw the unconscious professor on the floor.

AC held his wand loosely in his fingers, clearly not ready to cast a spell. "I simply knocked him out with a stunning spell," stated the history of magic professor. "However, I would like to request that you summon the head of the DMLE as I need to press charges against Lockhart. He attacked me with an unforgivable curse, and I believe that the proper thing to do is to involve the appropriate authorities."

"Do you really think that will be necessary?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling at Professor O'Malley. "That would be a lot of bother and perhaps this was all just a simple misunderstanding."

"No, it was not just a simple misunderstanding," proclaimed O'Malley. "And any use of an unforgivable _must_ be investigated by the DMLE, or is Hogwarts above the law?"

Minerva had checked that Lockhart was indeed simply stunned. She looked at the two men in front of her and then she spoke to the history professor. "So, what is it that you are accusing him of, precisely?"

"He attacked me with the imperius curse," stated O'Malley, "and I will explain the rest to the head of the DMLE. I do not take kindly to anyone trying to control me. Also, Minerva, if you could be so kind when you request for Madam Bones to come, please ask her to bring veritas serum, both for myself and for our unconscious colleague. I believe that there is a lot we can learn from this."

Minerva looked to Albus for direction on what she should do. Albus sighed slightly and nodded for her to go and summon the head of the DMLE. Once she had left for her office Albus turned to face AC. "I really would have preferred to handle this internally," he said softly, his tone indicating his disappointment with the man he was facing.

AC steeled his resolve and looked Albus directly in the eyes. "Sir, I respectfully must again disagree. Using an unforgivable curse is _always_ a matter that should be dealt with by the proper authorities. I was not aware that you personally represented the DMLE, or that Hogwarts was exempt from the laws of the Ministry of Magic."

Albus took a deep breath as he understood that he was not going to make any progress on this issue. "Well, my boy, could you tell me anymore about what happened between you two?"

AC frowned and then nodded slightly as he replied to the headmaster. "I was meaning to speak with you about one of the special projects I had been working on with some students. They had been studying the history of the four founders when a group of them became increasingly curious about the Chamber of Secrets. They had gathered some information and wanted to try and find it. Of course, I felt that they should be supervised on such an endeavour, and we actually did discover the Chamber. There is much we need to talk about this, some of which we can discuss with the director when she arrives.

Albus slowly nodded his head as he listened to what AC was telling him, "Perhaps there is much about the Chamber that should remain a mystery to most of the wizarding public," he suggested. He was eager to learn the truth about the Chamber of Secrets, but he also feared what would happen if the general populace also learned about it. The secrets would not remain secrets. "May I ask how you found it?"

AC smiled a little, "Well, one of our students happens to speak Parseltongue, as we all learned at the duelling club. So, it was simply a matter of having him speaking the correct phrase in the correct location."

Albus raised an eyebrow at this pronouncement. "So, what was that phrase, or for that matter, the location?"

"I was sadly surprised to discover that the password was as simple as saying 'open' in the language of the snakes, but if you studied the history of this school and looked into the rumours pertaining to the chamber," explained AC, "then you could probably deduce the location of the entrance on your own."

"I think that I would like to meet with those students who went on this little adventure with you," stated the headmaster. "And then, perhaps, we can all take a look together."

"I believe that before anyone does that, we really should speak with the DMLE," O'Malley persisted in his stance.

"Now, my boy, I already told you that I do not think that would be necessary," argued Dumbledore.

"I respectfully again must disagree," replied the history professor. After a slight pause he added, "So, would you like to contact Madam Bones, or should I?"

Albus Dumbledore resigned himself to not being able to persuade the professor. He returned to his office, accompanied by Professors McGonagall and O'Malley. A short time later the head of the DMLE stepped through the fireplace and into the headmaster's office.

Madam Bones glared at the headmaster through her monocle lens. "An unforgivable being cast inside the school, Albus? I thought you were more capable of running a safe environment for all of the students." Her admonishment was stern and quickly addressed her concerns. "Now, before you ruin anything, you may keep silent while I conduct this investigation with a couple of my Aurors."

She waved her wand towards the fireplace and send a blue spark into it. A minute later two Aurors, Rufus Scrimgeour and Kingsley Shacklebolt, stepped through. She nodded to the two men then she turned and faced the history professor. "I believe that you are the one who is filing the complaint against a fellow professor."

AC nodded and stood up slowly. "Yes, Madam Bones, I am. I was attacked by Gilderoy Lockhart. He tried to use the imperius curse on me, but I fought it off. He made his plans clear, that he would steal information from my mind and then he was planning on making me forget what it was that he had stolen."

"Serious enough charges," agreed the director. "How do you plan to substantiate these charges, though? I presume that there are no witnesses."

"I would be willing to either give you my memory of the event which could be viewed in a penseive, or I could be questioned under Veritas Serum," he quickly answered.

The director turned to her assistant, "Rufus, be sure to document the professor's complete willingness and cooperation to assist in the investigation."

Rufus pulled out a piece of parchment and began to scribble some notes.

"And what of this individual?" she asked, pointing to the still unconscious DADA professor who was sitting in a chair, restrained by magic.

"We shouldn't be too hasty," commented the headmaster.

Amelia turned and faced Dumbledore. "When I require your opinion, headmaster, I shall request it."

Her tone made almost everyone in the room flinch slightly, and stopped AC from laughing about the thought that the headmaster's comment made AC compare him to an ent from JRR Tolkien's books.

"Perhaps we should just begin by questioning Professor O'Malley," offered Minerva McGonagall.

The head of the DMLE turned to the tall black Auror. "You may begin documenting the questioning, and the fact that Mr. O'Malley has offered to take the Veritas Serum willingly."

Kingsley reached into a satchel at his side and produced a small vial as well as another parchment and a quill. He placed the parchment on the desk and magically set the quill in place. Then he handed the vial with the silver liquid to his supervisor.

Amelia Bones was quick and to the point. She gave Professor O'Malley three drops of the solution, then she proceeded to start the interrogation by asking him to tell them who he is.

AC sighed in relief as he could easily answer this question. He simply replied "I am Dr. AC O'Malley, professor of history of magic here at Hogwarts Academy."

Everyone nodded in response to his reply, however, the Headmaster's eyes seemed to twinkle a little less at hearing this. Internally he sighed as he considered his theory that his history professor might be hiding something about his identity was mistaken.

The director continued. "Could you please simply and clearly tell us all what happened between you and Professor Lockhart earlier today?"

AC then recounted the story of what happened when he was set upon by the DADA professor. Upon his finishing the story he simply bowed his head slightly and leaned back in his seat. The interrogation quill continued to record all that was spoken during the questioning.

Once they were finished speaking with Professor O'Malley, Director Bones had Shacklebolt administer the antidote.

"This all seems pretty straight forward," commented Scrimgeour.

"Now, enervate the other professor and we shall continue," stated the director.

Gilderoy Lockhart came around with a start and was surprised to find himself in shackles. "How did that bloody history professor manage to get out from under my spell," he said out loud before he was fully aware of his surroundings, "and why the hell am I bound like this?"

Then his head snapped back as he looked around, finally realising that he was in the presence of other professors, the headmaster himself, as well as members of the DMLE. "Well, this is all buggered, now isn't it?" he said to no one in particular.

"Mr. Lockhart," began Amelia, "can you tell us about the events of earlier today?"

He gave a flashing smile, nearly blinding everyone with his pearly white teeth, "Well, I started my day with a nice bit of tea and a scone. The house elves really out did themselves this morning. The raspberry scones were just amazing."

"I am not laughing, Mr. Lockhart," commented the director. "And please keep in mind that we already have testimony from Professor O'Malley."

"Lies, I'm sure he was telling you lies," he said with his smile only slightly wavering. "He's just another wizard jealous of all of my success."

"He testified under veritas serum," she added.

"Oh, he did, did he," came the shaky answer from the bound professor. "Have you heard of the time I had to learn to master the skill of overpowering veritas serum, I think it was during my Year with the Yeti as I recall. Perhaps he learned the same skill."

"There is no such skill," stated Amelia calmly, seeming to enjoy the squirming of the manacled man in front of her. "And all of your current answers are being recorded, and can and will be used at your trial if necessary."

Lockhart took a deep breath and slowly stated, "Shite."

"Now, would you be so kind as to take this veritas serum so we can begin with the questioning," she added.

"But that's not exactly legal," he protested.

Amelia raised an eyebrow, nearly allowing her monocle to fall out of place. "Do I need to remind you that I am the Director of the DMLE, I have two aurors accompanying me today and we are in the presence of the Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot in addition to having two additional witnesses present? I am quite sure that we have all of the legal necessities covered."

Gilderoy looked around the room once again, nodding slightly at the two aurors, then he looked back at Amelia. A look of fear passed across his face momentarily.

"I can promise you that for now, we will only ask questions about the events of today," she intoned, much to the visible relief of the DADA professor. "However, I reserve the right to arrange further questioning about your various exploits in the near future, but as the veracity of the tales of your adventures as documented in your best selling books is not the matter we are investigating at this time, I would admit that for now we will let that pass. Only for now, mind you."

Gilderoy swallowed hard, "Oh bother," he managed to squeak out.

* * *

9.3

* * *

Professor Dumbledore sank back into his chair and stared out across his now empty office. He wondered how things could have turned out like this. A professor arrested and sure to be sentenced for using unforgivable spells, illegally obliviating others and falsifying memories after stealing them from others. The DMLE would certainly not keep this entire incident hushed up, and he worried what would happen to the school and his own reputation. But Madam Bones had only included her top Aurors on the investigation and she had assured him that there would be clear limitations on the release of information. All he had to do was deal with the story that would be given to the school, faculty, students and parents alike. The sudden disappearance of the DADA professor could not be easily explained. He was joined in his office by Professor O'Malley as they were about to discuss further how best to deal with what was learned inside the Chamber of Secrets.

There was a knock on his door and the DMLE director walked in accompanied by Professor McGonagall and Auror Scrimgeour.

"You seem upset Amelia," observed Albus. "Whatever could be the problem?"

"It turns out that your DADA professor not only had skill with memory spells, he actually learned a few skills for simple duels," replied Madam Bones with a deep sigh.

Albus raised an eyebrow as he was about to ask her to explain when Scrimgeour added, "The smarmy git did not take kindly to our investigation and learning of his secrets. After we had placed him in a room for questioning, he managed to wandlessly summon a chair from across the room, which hit Shacklebolt in the back of the head. Foolish young Aurors figured they didn't need to keep him in magic restraining manacles while he was under veritas serum. So, after Kingsley was knocked over he went to grab his wand. A rookie Auror who was sent in to observe acted quickly."

Amelia Bones glared at the head of the Auror Department for interrupting her, then she replaced her monocle and she continued the story. "The overly excitable rookie managed to cast a blasting curse at Mr. Lockhart in order to prevent him from obtaining Auror Shacklebolt's wand. While we were able to get healers to repair the physical damage he suffered, they were unable to repair the damage to the man's brain."

Minerva gasped at what she heard and Scrimgeour once again interjected, "Apparently all of the memory spells he had been using made his own mind a little unstable, and he has forgotten everything back to before he started at Hogwarts as a student."

Minerva covered he mouth with her hand upon hearing this as the headmaster shook his head. "Such a shame, he was a bright young lad who at one time held so much promise. It really is too bad he did not get a chance to repent for his wrongdoing and make amends."

Scrimgeour couldn't hold back a snort in response to Dumbledore's comments.

Madam Bones tilted her head slightly forward as she looked down her nose at the senior Auror. Then she turned back to the headmaster. "You are free to give any public explanation to your school as you think might fit. But keep in mind, the senior staff at St. Mungo's assured us that Gilderoy Lockhart will not be teaching or even threatening anyone for quite some time, if ever."

Albus nodded solemnly in response, then he asked her, "Does the DMLE have any further need to question Professor O'Malley or to investigate the other issues any more?"

Madam Bones took a deep breath before replying tersely, "At this time I think we have the information we need for now, but we may need to investigate the Chamber of Secrets further."

Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath before he replied, as he did not want any of Voldemort's followers to learn of the Chamber. He did, however, want to learn about the secrets it contained, but he wanted to dissuade others from investigating the chamber. "Perhaps it would be best, Amelia, if we held off on that. The Chamber is secure, and we would not want any of the secrets it contains to get into the wrong hands."

Professor O'Malley briefly raised an eyebrow but steeled his features before the headmaster noted his reaction.

The director of the DMLE was a little startled by the stance of the headmaster, and she began to protest. However, Albus Dumbledore stopped her comments before she uttered them. "Now, I understand that you are the head of the DMLE," he said with a clear tone of superiority, "but as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I must insist on the Chamber of Secrets remaining, well, secret."

Amelia Bones tilted her head slightly as she considered the reprimand she had just received. "This discussion is not over, Albus," she snapped before turning and taking her leave.

AC turned from watching the director leave to face the headmaster. "I do believe that I shall like to retire now," he commented with a sigh, "it has proven to be quite a long day."

The headmaster eyed the history of magic professor carefully and then with a twinkle in his eye added, "I am sure you understand the importance of my decision on this. People may not properly understand what this truly means. The mystery of the existence of the Chamber and what does it hold should perhaps stay a mystery until we are more certain of its contents."

"I believe I understand your position," AC replied with a thin smile. Then he turned and left the headmaster's office.

* * *

9.4

* * *

Two weeks had passed since the DMLE had come to Hogwarts to investigate the issues surrounding the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore had to find a replacement DADA professor, but as he had not succeeded in doing so he had requested that the Aurors take turns giving the lectures to the students. AC O'Malley had outright declined the invitation to become the DADA professor, and he was shaking his head as he considered the meeting earlier in the previous week when he told Albus Dumbledore that he would not want to teach DADA, at least not at this point in time.

As he was taking a sip from his glass of fire whiskey, sitting at a table in the Three Broomsticks, a tall man in grey robes sat down across from him.

"Greetings, professor," stated the man quietly.

"Croaker, so good of you to join me," replied AC.

The senior Unspeakable, Saul Croaker, nodded, "Well, you did state in the message that you had some valuable research information pertaining to one of the founders…"

AC smiled slightly, "A little bit about a founder, and some about one of the more notorious wizards of our life time…"

Croaker leaned back a little at this pronouncement, "This seems highly irregular and I question what the benefit of such information would be, without a little more background."

"Understood," acknowledged AC, "but let me ask you a question. Do you believe that eleven years ago on that fateful night that the infant boy, Harry Potter, actually defeated He Who Must Not Be Named once and for all? Is the self proclaimed Dark Lord actually dead? Or is he, somehow, still alive, waiting to make some sort of return?"

Croaker looked around the room and ascertained that their conversation was being ignored. Then he narrowed his eyes at the man sitting across from him. "Most people choose to believe that he is dead, and that fact that you even asked the question implies that you know something that the average witch and wizard do not, that there is no evidence that the man is actually dead."

AC nodded and smiled a little more, "Does the Department of Mysteries know exactly who he was? Does your department even care?"

The Unspeakable stiffened at the last comment. "Our department concerns itself with the mysteries of magic, and we do not waste our time with the absurd ideologies of pure-blood doctrines that have absolutely no basis in fact."

The professor was relieved to hear that. "Then the materials I will be providing you with should prove useful."

Croaker looked around the room once again, "And when exactly will I be receiving these materials?"

"Obviously I do not have them with me," said O'Malley, "but I will have a house elf deliver the materials to you this evening."

"Seems a bit eccentric," commented Croaker. "First a mysterious and seemingly clandestine meeting, in this very public place of The Three Broomsticks here in Hogsmeade, followed by using a house elf as a messenger boy. What if someone sees you meeting with me?"

AC shrugged, "I am not worried about that. What I suspect is that you will review the information, seek validation of the information, and once you have done that, I anticipate that you will release the information to the public."

"Then why don't you simply release this information?" asked a slightly puzzled Croaker.

"While I have made a little bit of a name for myself as a magical historian, I really have no credibility with the magical people here in Britain nor do I have more influence with the Ministry of Magic than any foreigner would have," explained AC. "However, information actually made public by you and your staff, well, that would be accepted without question."

"And why would we, the Department of Mysteries, bother to make our findings public?" queried the Unspeakable.

"Perhaps I will leave that question for you to answer once you have reviewed the information," came AC's cryptic reply. "But I do recall that your department gives no credence to the lies of Pure-Blood supremacy, but you might care to find actual evidence of hypocrisy related to those same lies."

Croaker looked at the small glass of fire whiskey sitting near him on the table. He picked the glass up and swallowed the clear beverage in one gulp, without any evidence that the burning sensation had any effect on him. He placed the glass down on the table and looked back at the professor. "You are a curious one, Professor O'Malley. You are an intriguing individual, your magical signature indicates that there is an inherent problem with magic surrounding you, an anomaly of some sort. One that I have never seen before. I shall review this material you have for me. I may wish to speak with you further on other matters at some time in the future, if too much time has not passed before we can arrange such a meeting."

AC was a little startled by the words of the Unspeakable. He had understood that there might be a chance that meeting face to face with the leader of the Unspeakables could lead to his secrets being discovered, and he wondered if Croaker had figured out what he had done.

"I believe that could be arranged," replied O'Malley trying to hide his surprise. "You do know how to reach me, as I reside here at the school."

"I do not expect that finding you should be too much trouble," agreed Croaker as he stood to rise and then turned to leave the pub.

* * *

9.5

* * *

The small group of students are spending time studying together. Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass were sitting in the library working on their various essays when Draco slammed his quill on the table in frustration.

The others all looked up at him, wondering what was wrong. Draco noticed a glare from the librarian, Madam Pince, and he was sure to speak quietly as he responded. "We go off on that little adventure, encounter a giant snake, a basilisk no less; then we find a secret room with all sorts of mysteries and revelations, but we aren't allowed to speak to anyone about it. Are we supposed to just pretend it didn't happen?"

"Of course it happened," countered Hermione. "Professor Dumbledore just wants to keep it quiet while all of what we found is being investigated, so that everyone can learn the truth."

Draco rolled his eyes at her, "You really believe everything that he tells you? Do you believe everything every adult or authority tells you? Does your naiveté come from being a muggle-born or just from being overly impressed by teachers and leaders?"

Even Daphne and Harry were shocked by Draco's comments.

"That's not fair Draco," rebutted Daphne. "You were there, you saw that there is plenty of information that shows that blood purity doesn't matter and that You Know Who was only a half blood, with pitiful lineage to begin with."

"That's not the point I was trying to make," stated Draco coolly. "The powers that be became involved right away, the DMLE even showed up, that much we already know. But what came of it all? We still have no idea."

"Be patient," encouraged Harry. "Do you really think that Professor O'Malley would allow what we discovered to be covered up?"

There was an awkward silence for a moment before Draco conceded that no, Professor O'Malley would not likely cover up the information nor sit idly by while someone else tried to cover up the information.

Despite his concession, Hermione was still upset about his comments about her being a muggle born, and she gathered her things and went to leave the library.

"What got into her?" asked a confused Malfoy as he watched Granger leave, after glaring at him.

"Maybe your rudeness to her just a minute ago," stated Daphne who quickly gathered her things. "I'm going to go check on her, I'll catch up with you later." Then Daphne had hastily thrown her books into her bag and nearly ran after Hermione.

Draco looked at Harry who was still staring at him. "What? What did I say wrong?"

"Just those comments about her being a muggle born probably had a lot to do with her reaction," observed Harry, "particularly when you were bringing up the information that shows that there is no magical advantage to blood purity."

"I wasn't talking about blood purity," Draco tried to explain, feeling exasperated. "I was simply pointing out that she was too quick to accept everything and anything that the teachers, or those in authority, have to say."

Harry shook his head, "But it was _how_ you said it. Even I figured that out. And I'm not very good at figuring out girls."

"Like being oblivious to Daphne's liking you," stated Draco with a laugh.

"What are you talking about?" asked a startled Harry.

Draco was about to laugh out loud when a very stern looking Madam Pince showed up. The two boys did not need to ask what she wanted and then proceeded to quickly and quietly pack up their books and leave the library.

* * *

9.6

* * *

In April, there is a press conference that was held at the Ministry of Magic, that seemed to come out of nowhere. Saul Croaker, the senior Unspeakable, announced to the wizarding world that the Department of Mysteries has been able to conduct some research about new information pertaining to the founders. Some of the books that were obtained from the Chamber of Secrets had included a journal where Salazar outlined what his disagreements with the other founders were — how he did not hate muggle-born witches and wizards, but how he was wary of their influence on the magical society, and he even acknowledged that they often had stronger magic than those who had magical parents.

This announcement was surprising to many, debated by a few, but generally acknowledged as being reliable as it came from information being reported by the Department of Mysteries.

But his announcement did not end with the revelation about Salazar Slytherin and his actual views towards muggle-born.

"We have also been able to find some materials that were hidden away, and we have been able to confirm that these other materials are the writings of He Who Must Not Be Named. We can let everyone know that the dark wizard had a name. Tom Marvolo Riddle - a half blood born to a near squib and a muggle. He was the last of the Gaunt family, who can trace their lineage back to Salazar Slytherin. But the point here is that he was a half-blood wizard, not a pure-blood. He was raised in a muggle orphanage, where apparently he was treated poorly and quickly learned to despise muggles as a result. Yes, he was a powerful wizard. The fact that the son of a near squib and a muggle could become so powerful shows us how little blood supremacy really means."

The main points of the press conference were put forth in a detailed story the next day, being the biggest news that the Daily Prophet had to cover in some time.

Dumbledore read the article that was essentially the front page of the Daily Prophet over breakfast. He looked up at Professor O'Malley with a sadness in his eyes. He had hoped that the professor would not release the information, but it was clear that he had and there was nothing more that Albus could do about it. And soon the entire magical community was abuzz with the newly released information.

Once breakfast had ended, Professor McGonagall relayed a message to Professor O'Malley that his presence was requested at the headmaster's office. AC thought it odd that even when he wanted to speak to a faculty member the headmaster wouldn't make the request in person but sent someone else to deliver the message. AC felt like he was being treated as though he were a student who had misbehaved, but he quickly understood that the headmaster was most likely trying to reinforce that he was above the faculty members, especially a second year teacher without a clear magical background.

A short while later AC found himself seated across from Albus Dumbledore.

"That was potentially a very dangerous thing for you to have done, for you to share that information with others," stated the headmaster allowing a frown to show on his usually smiling face.

AC was not in a mood to play any of the headmaster's games. "And why would that be? Do the magical people not deserve to know the truth? Or do you not want witches and wizards to know the truth about magic and the potential of muggle-borns?"

"Your revelations," began Albus, but he was quickly cut off by the history professor.

"Not MY revelations, but revelations made public by the Department of Mysteries," corrected AC, not caring that he had interrupted the older wizard.

Albus could not hide the look of disappointment with being corrected by the younger wizard, but he continued, " _Your_ revelations, to the Department of Mysteries, and then made public _through_ them, could lead to more problems within our society. It could lead to chaos," he added flatly and not without a clear tone of disappointment.

"Chaos?" questioned AC. "You seem to think it is fine to withhold the truth. The truth that certain members of magical society not only choose to ignore but teach against and make policies that offend and discriminate. Or was the last wizarding war not enough chaos for this society?"

"Be that as it may, these things take time," stated the headmaster.

"Time is the one thing we do not have anymore if people are to survive. Those who believe that they are superior will continue their reign of terror. The war may have ended to the public eye when Voldemort was defeated, but the ideology he taught did not disappear. His followers are still out there, getting ready to take up his mantle once again. They kill, they persecute, they even imprison those who disagree wit them," explained AC, feeling as though he were stating the obvious, but felt like he was speaking to a brick wall.

"Such radical ideas could ruin everything," protested the headmaster. "The pure-bloods will need time to adapt."

"Don't be so sure," argued AC. "The muggles have their own issues with bigotry. Just take a look at the nation of South Africa. For years the blacks have been suppressed by the whites, and it has been legislated that way. They have argued, however foolishly, that their country _needs_ to enforce those barbaric laws, maintain Apartheid, to maintain their prosperity. But times are changing, their politics, their very nation is changing. Soon, very soon, there will be elections held in South Africa, elections where everyone will be considered equal. Equality is coming to South Africa, and they have not been engulfed in flames. True, it may not be easy, change is never easy, but it is the right thing for South Africa, and it is the right thing for change to come to magical Britain. Suppression of the half-bloods, and even more so the muggle born cannot be allowed to continue."

"I fear that we are not ready for this change," protested Albus.

"The pure-bloods will never be ready for this change, but it _must_ come," continued AC. "The longer it is delayed, the longer _you_ delay it, and I am speaking to you, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, for you personally allow the intolerance and discrimination to continue."

A house elf popped in to the office, interrupting their conversation. "Excuse me, Professor Headmaster, sir, but you have some visitors who are demanding to meet with you."

Albus raised an eyebrow at this comment, wondering who would be here to disturb him.

The house elf answered the unasked question for him, "They are from the Daily Prophet and from the Wizarding Wireless news services. They are requesting an interview."

Dumbledore actually let out an audible sigh then he told the house elf that he would be happy to meet with them in one of the unused classrooms near the main entrance and that he would join them there shortly.

"I suppose I should be going then," suggested AC.

"No, no, my boy," replied Albus with a twinkle in his eyes, "I am sure that your perspective on magical history may prove to be quite valuable. You _are_ the expert on magical history, or so you claimed before you were hired here."

AC took a deep breath and gave a thin smile in reply. "This should be interesting," he said quietly, as he stood and followed the headmaster to the room that would hold the impromptu press conference.

When they arrived there were four reporters as well as a couple of magical photographers. Albus and AC saw that there was a table set up at one end of the room which the reporters were facing. The headmaster quickly conjured a second chair and indicated for O'Malley to take that seat.

"This is a little bit of a surprise," commented Dumbledore to the reporters as he made his way to his chair at the table, "although not altogether unexpected. I presume that you are all here in regard to the news released from the Department of Mysteries, so in that regard, I asked our young professor of magical history to join us today."

A couple of flashes went off as the photographers took their pictures, then the questions started. Dumbledore waved his hand to silence the group and smiled cheerfully. "Enthusiastic I see, but I can only answer one question at a time."

"Is it true that there is no actual evidence to support superiority of pureblooded magical families?" asked a thin man sitting to Albus' right.

"Now, let's be clear about what we are discussing," explained the headmaster, "the report from the Department of Mysteries outlines that _any_ given witch or wizard's magic is not necessarily related to their family ancestry. That being understood, there are muggle-born witches and wizards who are very strong in magic, and there are pure-blooded individuals who are also powerful in their magic. Everyone is different, but someone who comes from a muggle family or is a half-blood does not necessarily have less magic."

"But where do muggle-born witches and wizards come from?" asked another reporter.

Albus smiled and turned to AC. "Perhaps Professor O'Malley could explain this to you all better than myself."

AC smiled in response, then turned to face the reporters. "It is presumed that a muggle-born magic user comes from a squib line at some point in their ancestry, and has magic in their genes that finally is expressed after being dormant for generations," replied O'Malley. Noting their confusion as to his words, he then went on to explain, "Muggle scientists who study how traits are passed from generation to the next have discovered that there are things called genes, all people have them, and these genes passed on from parents to their children give them the various traits or attributes which they have. There are genes that determine hair colour, eye colour, how tall you will be, what you will look like. And there are genes that determine magic, but the muggles have no idea that those genes even exist."

"What does this mean for the pure-blood society?" asked the first reporter.

"All this means is that people with magic should be treated equally," answered Dumbledore. "There should be no favouritism in this society based on family background in our world. People should earn their positions based on their skills with magic, regardless of their family heritage."

The reporters had magical quills that were quickly writing down his answers.

In the back of the room there was a female reporter whom Albus recognised all too well, Rita Skeeter, and she raised her hand to ask a question. Albus was concerned about where she would direct the interview, but nonetheless he did smile at her and acknowledged her question.

"Headmaster, perhaps you could shed more light on the claims from the report that the wizard known as He Who Must Not Be Named was not actually a pure-blood, despite his calling for blood purity. Was he really a student here by the name of Tom Riddle?" Then she added, "And why did you not tell anyone about this during the recent magical war against him and his Death Eaters?"

Albus gave an imperceptible sigh and then he slowly began to reply to her question. "Tom Riddle was indeed a student here, many years ago, and he was quite gifted in his skill with magic. It is true, that Tom Riddle was a half-blood, but he did come from a nearly extinct family line that traced their ancestry back to Salazar Slytherin himself."

"Nearly extinct? Wouldn't you mean extinct now that He Who Must Not Be Named was defeated?" she asked pointedly.

"Ah, you see, Miss Skeeter, even your question partially answers itself," he said as his eyes twinkled again. "You mentioned his defeat, which we all know occurred on that fateful October night in 1981. But he was not killed."

There were gasps in the room at his words.

"But how can you be sure, there was no body found at the Potter's home in Godric's Hollow," declared Rita.

"There is much that indicates he was not killed but merely defeated," explained the headmaster. "There was no body, yet we know he cast the killing curse at young Harry Potter. The killing curse does not destroy a body. It simply kills the one it strikes, or at least it usually does. However that night, for some unknown reason, it rebounded off of young Harry Potter and hit the self proclaimed Dark Lord." He paused a moment for his words to sink in, and wanting to detract from Harry's involvement that night, he continued, "Tom Riddle's mother was Merope Gaunt, who died shortly after Tom was born. Tom was raised in a muggle orphanage. The Gaunt family vault at Gringotts Bank is still active, which indicates that there is still at least one living member. Tom Riddle had no siblings; his mother, his father, his uncle and his grandfather have all died. So that leaves only Tom as the possible heir to the Gaunt family vault."

"But where is the proof that He Who Must Not Be Named is this Tom Riddle?" asked another reporter. "How do we know for sure?"

Albus turned to O'Malley, "Perhaps our young history of magic professor can answer this for you."

AC narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore then he turned to face the reporters. "While working on a special research project with a few of my students, we came across some papers and some writings that were turned over to the Department of Mysteries. The department was able to analyse them thoroughly and they were able to make the clear connection that Lord Voldemort is in fact Tom Riddle." The professor ignored the renewed gasps from the others in the room. "In his own hand writing, on one of the parchments that was found, was the derivation of his name. Tom Marvolo Riddle is not an intimidating name. Riddle is not even a magical name, but the surname of his muggle father. The letters in the name Tom Marvolo Riddle," AC indicated by casting the name in fiery letters in the air above him, "can be rearranged as an anagram, a word puzzle, and they can spell out for you his new name." The letters then rearranged themselves in the air in front of the reporters to spell out "I am Lord Voldemort"

There was an eerie silence over the room. "I would have thought that these details were included in the information released by the Department of Mysteries," continued AC O'Malley, "so I find it odd that you are here questioning the headmaster and myself about everything that the Department of Mysteries already explained in their report. Or do you question the validity of their report?"

"No, no, we don't question their information," explained one of the reporters.

"But it does help our readers to hear this information from other sources," added Rita Skeeter, who now smiled as she stared at the headmaster. "However, Professor Dumbledore, as the Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, if you knew the origin of He Who Must Not Be Named, and you knew that he was not a pure-blood, but simply a half-blood, why did you not share that information with the leaders in the Wizengamot or the DMLE? Why keep his true identity hidden?"

"I had my suspicions at the time," admitted the headmaster, "however until we discovered these writings I was not completely sure that Lord Voldemort was definitely Tom Riddle. Conjecture and supposition did not have a place during a time of war and strife."

Before anyone could ask anymore questions the headmaster ended the meeting. "I think that is all that we need to discuss today, you have heard our answers to confirm the report from the Department of Mysteries."

"But sir, you mentioned that He Who Must Not Be Named, this Tom Riddle," Skeeter stated, insisting on getting one more question answered, "that he is not dead, but defeated. Then does this mean that you expect that he can and will return at some point?"

"Tom was a very powerful wizard," he stated sternly, "I have no doubt that he may have some way to return. Exactly how or when, that I do not know. Do we need to fear his eventual return? No. Should we prepare for his return? Undoubtedly."

"But how should we prepare?" asked one of the reporters.

"That is a question that should be asked of the Ministry of Magic," replied Dumbledore as he then opened the door to the room with a wave of his hand, indicating he would be leaving and he was done answering their questions.

* * *

 **AN: Another long time in writing a chapter. Part of the problem here was that I had written the initial draft of the chapter I wrote myself into a corner, to a place where the story would not flow and was not helping the plot in any way. It took me a while to figure out what to change and rewrite this chapter. Besides, there were too many distractions over the summer months. I continue to try and plot out what story lines to change in my other story - Going Muggle - which remains on hold until I can get around to fixing the major problems with the story arc (if you have read it, you probably understand what I mean). My next major story after this one (plan to write it out in November for NaNoWriMo) will be a post book 7 story, EWE, and ignore The Cursed Child…and deal with what might have happened if the muggle British Government decided to retaliate for all the muggle deaths at the hands of the Death Eaters over both wars….**


	10. Chapter 10 - Third Year

**AN: No, I am not dead. Yes, I have been writing. I just completed my 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo (a new story that will be titled Life During Wartime - it will be a post book 7 Harry Potter story, not epilogue compliant, not cursed child complaint - but it has many more words/chapters to go). But now that I "won" NaNoWriMo for 2016, I am back to working on Future Imperfect. The chapter on the third year became so long, I actually broke it into 2 chapters). Sorry for the delay.**

* * *

Chapter 10 Third Year

* * *

It was the summer of 1993, and a certain professor of the history of magic was anxious. He was anxious about a series of events that he knew would need to transpire, just as they had when he was 13, although at that time he had no idea that any of this was actually occurring. He was enjoying a late breakfast at the Three Broomsticks with his girlfriend, who also happened to be the owner of the well known establishment in Hogsmeade. The morning paper had finally arrived and the cover story warned the entire magical populace that the dangerous mass murderer, Sirius Black, had somehow escaped from Azkaban.

"And so it begins," he stated softly.

Rosmerta raised an eyebrow at his words. "So, I take it your new series of adventures is about to begin then?"

AC looked up at her and smiled a sad smile. "As much as I have enjoyed this relaxing summer with you so far, I have told you a little about what I have to do."

Rosmerta smiled at him in return. "Try not to get hurt," she warned him.

"I shouldn't be the one in any real danger," replied AC, "I'm not even about to try and find where that mutt is hiding. But as I know he has already escaped, I now know that I can go capture the one who he is after, and that nasty rodent has no idea anyone is after him yet."

AC stood up from the table, bent over and kissed Rosmerta on the cheek, then he stepped outside into the street, and quickly apparated away. Just as quickly he reappeared on the side of a small hill, overlooking a quaint little town to one side and the most oddly constructed house on the other side. AC had already scoped out the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, and he had already observed the actions of the Weasley family and the youngest son's pet rat. It boggled his mind to think that no one in that family once considered it was odd for a rat to live that long. And who would want a rat as a pet or possible familiar when a kneazle or an owl or even a snake would be so much better. And infinitely more pleasant to have around.

AC disillusioned himself before making his way down to the edge of the Weasley's property. He shook his head in surprise as once again he easily detected that the only wards they had around their home were muggle repelling wards. "I suppose if you think that your family's personal saviour, the all powerful Albus Brian Wulfric Dumbledore, and I am sure I missed a name in there somewhere, made the entire wizarding world so safe and sound that you wouldn't think of having any extra protection," he mused to himself. AC then checked the time and saw it was nearly ten in the morning. "Just about time for the Weasley boys to go play their little Quidditch match and for the rat to run off towards the garden."

He made is way to the North side of the house where Mrs. Weasley's garden was growing. As he approached the garden he heard a recurrent thumping sound. It was not a sound he either expected or was used to hearing. Making his way slowly towards the garden, he espied the youngest Weasley, Ginevra, pulling gnomes out from amongst the vegetables and tossing them over the hedgerow. The noise was the thumping of the gnomes landing on their heads. AC had not planned on having to deal with any of the Weasleys and he was surprised to see her there as she normally would join her brothers in playing Quidditch. As he considered the family's nearly daily sporting entertainment, he decided that they all most be braver then he originally gave them credit for as they repeatedly dared to fly on the old brooms that appeared to AC to be about ready to fall apart.

Soon enough he saw the small rodent making a dash among the vegetables and he silently cast a stunner at the rat. AC waited as he noticed Ginny look up and around the garden as she had noticed a slight flash. After a moment, she had not seen anything unusual and she went back to grabbing the gnomes and tossing them over the garden wall. AC was relieved that the stunned rat had come to a rest so that there was a large plant between it and the young Weasley girl. As she was tossing two gnomes in rapid succession over the wall, AC summoned the rat to him and then ducked behind a tree. He waited there for several minutes before attempting to leave so that he would not draw any undue attention to himself, even though he was still disillusioned. Then he apparated away from Ottery-Staint-Catchpole and made his way back to the Three Broomsticks. He had a cage prepared for the stunned rat which was protected with runes so as to prevent the rat from either escaping or transforming back into his human form.

* * *

FI 10.2

* * *

Ron was frustrated when he was ready to leave for school as his rat, Scabbers, had not been seen for a couple of weeks prior to leaving for school. Upon arriving at the Gryffindor common room after the welcoming feast, he noted that Hermione Granger had a large cat sitting on her lap while she was reading a book.

"What kind of monster is that thing, Granger?" he called out to her.

"This _thing_ , as you so delicately put it, is my pet cat, Crookshanks," she explained, clearly irritated by the gangly red head.

"Looks more like a kneazle," commented Neville.

"Well, you know, I do believe that he is part kneazle," replied Hermione.

"Still looks like a right scary beast," commented Ron. "Perhaps it is a good thing Scabbers isn't here this year, that monster would probably have tried to eat my little pet."

"Probably not," added in Seamus, "that rat of yours was probably too scrawny to have made a right meal for that thing on Hermione's lap."

"His name is Crookshanks," called out Hermione, "and he is a beautiful and caring creature, not a thing. And I am _sure_ he would not have eaten your scrawny rat, Ronald."

* * *

FI 10.3

* * *

School had started and Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts after spending the last few weeks of the summer at The Leaky Cauldron. AC had ventured to Diagon Alley and was readily able to confirm that the Boy Who Lived had run away, just like in his original timeline, after "blowing up" his aunt. Harry managed to get his shopping for the school year done when Hermione and her parents arrived one day. He had also managed to stay in touch with a few other friends that summer, specifically Hermione, Neville and Daphne by keeping Hedwig busy.

AC had considered what to do about the events on the Hogwarts Express, but he had learned that once again, Remus Lupin, the new DADA professor would be on board the train. The events unfolded just like they had when AC was a student — the train stopped, then the dementors came on board and when they again attacked Harry Professor Lupin was there and he managed to drive them away. The Slytherin students had witnessed what had happened and AC hoped that his younger self would not treat Harry the same way as he had. While young Draco remained oddly silent, Theo Nott once again took up the position of lead trouble maker and instigator from within Slytherin and made fun of Harry for his reaction to the dark creatures. Simply put, passing out in front of other students, regardless of the instigating event, was fair ground for the pompous Slytherin student to quickly try and take advantage of, and to do so by embarrassing the famed Boy Who Lived was even better.

At the welcoming feast, the headmaster introduced the new professors and explained the presence of the dementors as a ministry decreed protection due to the threat of the escaped mass murderer, Sirius Black, and his supposed goal of seeking revenge on Harry Potter.

AC leaned back as he surveyed the students in the Great Hall. He could tell that Harry was uncomfortable with everything that was going on, and he could see his younger self was not exactly getting along with his house mates. Young Theodore Nott seemed to be gathering the attention of some of the other students, but not as many as had seemed to follow him last year. O'Malley quietly hoped that the information reported on last spring was starting to affect the way people were thinking about blood status.

Once the feast had ended he returned to his quarters as he prepared for the next stage in his plan for acquiring more horcruxes. However he knew he would probably need to wait until the end of October. AC was not about to search for a dog all over Britain when he was fairly certain that the animagus would be showing up at the castle on Halloween.

Early October saw the first Quidditch match of the year — as Slytherin faced off against Gryffindor. AC was a little surprised at the schedule as that was not the first game of the year the when he was a third year student. Young Draco was vying against Harry Potter for the golden snitch so AC knew that his younger self was not about to scare Harry with a fake dementor. Although the game was once again disrupted by the presence of an actual dementor coming onto the pitch and attacking Harry, who nearly fell off of his broom. Draco saw the distraction and considered trying to grab the snitch while Harry was incapacitated, but he surprised his team and his house by checking on Harry's safety during the called time out before once again resuming the quest for the snitch. Harry ultimately was successful in capturing the snitch as he out manoeuvred Draco on a series of wild dives for the erratically flying small golden ball with wings.

AC was relieved to overhear that in response to this second encounter with a dementor, the DADA professor, Remus Lupin, had readily agreed to work with Harry one on one to teach him the patronus charm just like he had done during the original time line.

And soon Halloween had arrived. The usual feast was occurring in the Great Hall, and none of the students paid any attention to the absence of the History of Magic Professor from the faculty table for the festivities.

* * *

FI 10.4

* * *

A large black dog made its way up to the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Suddenly the dog transformed into a tall but gaunt man with scraggly long hair that was a combination of black and grey and was matted in places. The man sneered at the Fat Lady in the portrait guarding the entrance and immediately she fainted in response to his threat to tear the painting to shreds.

Out of the shadows from behind him stepped a man with light hair with a salt and pepper goatee.

"Mr. Black, I do believe that you really shouldn't be here," spoke the man holding a wand lazily in his hand but pointing it at the ground.

The escapee from Azkaban turned and was clearly surprised to be found by anyone, assuming everyone would still be at the feast. "Who are you and how do you know who I am?"

AC smiled slightly, "A friend, or at least a potential friend. And you, _my friend_ , are in desperate need of a friend."

Sirius looked around and saw that there was no one else around as they stood in front of the Gryffindor entrance.

Sirius was none too happy to have been found by anyone and he was trying to assess his surroundings and plan his escape. "I have been in Azkaban for a long time, and I have no idea who in Merlin's name you are, and I know that I do not have friends, or why would I have been left to wallow in that hell hole?"

AC tilted his head in consideration of Sirius' comments. "Good point, however, I do know what you are after, and I also happen to know that it is not your godson."

Sirius was puzzled by the statement. "Why would I be after my godson?"

AC actually laughed slightly at the question. "The entire wizarding world in Britain thinks that is precisely why you escaped, and that is why you would come here. They all assume that you would want to finish what you apparently started by your supposed betrayal of your best friend and his wife. And that all occurred twelve years ago tonight, if I am not mistaken."

Sirius was perplexed by the mysterious replies he had received from this unknown individual in front of him. "How can I trust you?" he demanded.

"You can't, unless you consider that I am not here with a battalion of aurors, and that I have not raised my wand against you. Besides, I also happen to have something that you want," stated AC as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sirius nodded slightly before returning to questioning the man in front of him. "Why would you want to help me and not turn me over to the DMLE?"

AC sighed slightly before replying, "I am a student of history. What I know about the last war is that there is no way that you could have been a Death Eater, nor could you have betrayed Harry's parents."

Sirius was still confused by this wizard. "How is it that you know all of this, especially when everyone in the ministry seems to have missed this point?"

"I have had the opportunity to overhear certain conversations," explained AC.

The Azkaban escapee was confused by this comment. "What conversations?" demanded Sirius.

"That is for another time," said AC.

Sirius was starting to become agitated with the direction of this conversation. "You said you know why I am here."

"That I did," acknowledged AC, "I also have, in a very safe place, the one individual you are looking for. So, you do not need to force your way into the Gryffindor common room."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and was still confused. "How? What? Why? Who?" he stammered in quick succession.

"Stop your stuttering man," chided AC, "and act like the noble Lord of the House Black that you were meant to be and should be. And yes, I have Pettigrew, and he cannot escape from where I have him. No one else besides you and me know that he is even alive. Perhaps that is why you can trust me, or at least see why you need me. I can make you a free man."

"Let me have him," demanded Sirius, anger rising in his voice.

"No, he needs to be turned over to the authorities," said AC, persisting in his controlling of the situation. "And _you_ need to be exonerated, and that will do even more to stop the blood supremacists."

"What?" cried out a confused Sirius.

AC shook his head slightly. "The Death Eaters. Do you think they will just go away or forget their agenda just because Voldemort is vanquished once and for all?"

Sirius still stared at this man with a blank expression.

"No, their hatred and their scheming needs to be stopped. You, a Black, _the Lord Black_ , will need to be a voice of reason for the future. And you will probably be of some benefit to your godson. And you would benefit him more as a freeman then you would as a wanted criminal on the run."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the still unidentified man in front of him. "What do you want in return?"

"Now you're thinking like a Black," said AC with a smile. "As far as what I want, that is simple. Nothing too much, just your help with some minor things."

Sirius remained suspicious. "What kind of things? I have no idea how much money the Black family has left."

"I don't want, nor do I need, your money," reassured AC.

"Then what things?"

"I will need your help," AC began to explain. "All will be explained soon enough. But you, my friend, need to leave here before you are found by any others. I am aware that you know of the benefits of the Shrieking Shack. Head over there. I can meet you there tomorrow night. I can even arrange to bring you food. We will discuss this further, as long as you don't get caught, or get kissed by a dementor, or killed by an Auror."

"I suppose I don't have much choice then," Sirius reluctantly agreed.

"Then I suggest that you best be getting down into one of those secret tunnels through which I suppose you came in and then head back to he Shrieking Shack," stated AC, "and I will make it look like you just ran off after frightening the poor Fat Lady out of her picture frame…"

Sirius blinked for a moment, then he understood what the mysterious wizard in front of him was saying.

Sirius ran off down the stairs and disappeared quickly into the hallways.

Soon there was a commotion in the hallway as the Fat Lady came back into her portrait. Students were arriving up the stairs as the feast was now over.

"Did you see him," called out the Fat Lady to Professor O'Malley, "did you see that crazy man?"

AC shook his head, "No, I heard a scream and a commotion and came running up the stairs," he said with clear concern in his voice as students were now gathering around. "I found your picture damaged and you had seemed to have passed out from some sort of excitement."

"It must have been that crazed Sirius Black!" called out the Fat Lady.

Professor Dumbledore arrived, quickly followed by Minerva McGonagall.

"Now what is it that you are saying?" asked the headmaster with a calm tone.

"Sirius Black!" the guardian to the Gryffindor common room shrieked. "He was here! He must have been coming for poor Harry Potter!"

Students all gasped at this. The headmaster turned to AC, "What exactly did you see?"

"Nothing really, I heard some screams and some sounds and footsteps running off somewhere," stated AC, "but I didn't see anything."

Professor McGonagall called out, "Now students, the excitement is over, you can all head back to your rooms. Immediately," she added sternly.

Once the students made their way into the common room the headmaster turned to the professors who were with him. "So it would seem that Mr. Black has found a way into the castle," he observed.

"Perhaps we need an extra guard over the dormitories," suggested O'Malley.

"I do not believe that will be necessary," replied Albus, "but perhaps all passwords should be changed, and maybe even some detection and warning charms put in place."

The professors quickly conferred and agreed to these measures before they set out to speak with the other staff to make the necessary changes.

* * *

FI 10.5

* * *

The following night AC arrived at the Shrieking Shack, accompanied by Rosmerta as they brought food for Sirius Black.

Sirius was startled to see that AC had someone with him. "Wait, why did you bring her here? I thought you said that you would help me."

"I am helping you," AC replied calmly, "and Rosie here has brought you some food. So, you don't need to worry about house elves in the castle reporting back to the headmaster about your location."

"You trust her?" asked Sirius cautiously.

"She figured out some of my most important secrets, so, yes, I do trust her," he answered with a smile.

Rosmerta smiled back, "Now you relax, Sirius Black. I have heard the truth of your story and like AC here, I, too, believe that your are innocent. So take your food and stop complaining."

She handed him the containers with the food and Sirius hesitantly put it down on a table.

"Black, if I wanted to take you out I would have done so last night with my wand," stated AC, "not simply waited to poison you here today."

Sirius opened the cover and found a fork and a spoon, then he started to eat the stew that was brought for him.

In between bites he looked up at the two visitors. "So, who the bloody hell are you, really?"

AC and Rosmerta sat down in chairs that AC had conjured. AC then answered his question, "I am the current history professor at Hogwarts, Dr. AC O'Malley, at your service."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, "History professor, eh? What happened to Binns? And besides, I never heard of any magical O'Malleys. So, excuse me if I find this all a little too suspicious."

"And you escaped from Azkaban, without any help, and then you managed to get through the wards and into the castle," observed AC, "which if I didn't know the whole story, I would find _that_ a little too suspicious."

Sirius took another few bites before opening the other bag that had been handed to him with the stew and found two bottles of butter beer. He quickly opened one and took a long drink before turning back to face his benefactors.

"And what exactly do you know about me? And how is it that you do know it?" he asked of the two facing him.

"I know you never betrayed your best friend, his wife or your godson," began AC. "I know you were sent to Azkaban without even a trial. I know that you were not trying to find Harry but the one who actually betrayed them. And I know that you never were a Death Eater."

Sirius put down the bottle that he was about to drink from and stared at AC and Rosmerta.

"I also know how you escaped from Azkaban, and I know that your brother was killed for betraying the Dark Lord before you and your friends were betrayed by a certain rat," added AC.

Sirius was feeling overwhelmed with the information. "Wait, you said last night you have what I'm looking for. You meant the rat. You found and captured Pettigrew. Hell, you told me that much last night. But what is this about Regulus?"

"I know that your brother figured out part of the Dark Lord's plans, tried to betray him, and in doing so, he died." AC paused to let his words sink in. "Voldemort had devised a way to cheat death. Your brother discovered part of that plan and tried to thwart that same plan. He died in his attempt, and, sadly, he did not complete his work."

Sirius was stunned, "What was Regulus trying to do? What did the Dark Wanker do?"

"You're a Black, your family has a history of studying and perfecting the Dark Arts," continued AC. "I wonder if you have ever heard of something called a horcrux?"

Sirius spit on the floor, "Heard of them? Hell, my grandfather told me of them when I was a boy. He described them as something so foul that no one in our family would ever have anything to do with them. Which, I might, add, is saying something coming from a Black."

"So you know what they are then?" asked AC for clarification.

Sirius nodded then he spoke harshly, "That's what that mad man did? He made a horcrux! And Regulus tried to destroy it?"

"You are partially correct," stated AC.

Rosmerta had not heard all of this and she looked puzzled. Sirius saw her face and then explained to her, "A horcrux is a disgusting thing, created through a dark ritual by splitting one's soul through the act of murder and placing that part of your soul into a container — that container is called a horcrux. And as long as that horcrux exists, the person who created it cannot truly die."

Rosmerta gasped and covered her mouth as she considered what this meant.

Sirius turned back to AC, "So, Voldie made one of those things?"

"No," stated AC simply.

Sirius shook his head, puzzled by the response. "But you just said," he mumbled for a moment, "and you asked about them!"

"No," continued AC soberly, "Voldemort did not make just _one_ of those things."

Rosmerta gasped again, and Sirius felt like he was going to be sick. After an awkward minute of silence Sirius hesitantly asked, "How many did the bastard make, then?"

"He made his first one as a student," AC slowly explained. "He made several more after that, his goal was to make six, for a total of seven pieces of his soul. He had made five before he attacked the Potters that night all those years ago. And he would eventually make one more knowingly, but he also made one unwittingly."

"What do you mean he would make one more? Has he returned already?" demanded Sirius.

"I know your secrets, Lord Black," stated AC, changing the subject, "and I said last night that I needed your help. You will probably not help me if you do not know _my_ secrets. But I will pay you for your cooperation with me by working on making you a free man. Having you exonerated."

"Fine, fine, whatever, I will work with you and you will get me freed," Sirius readily agreed, "just tell me what I need to know!"

"I can't," replied AC. He held up a hand to stop Sirius' pending tirade. "I cannot risk the information I will share with you being discovered by the DMLE. So, I cannot tell you my secrets now, but only _after_ you are a free man. Then we can work _together_ on finally defeating that monster, Voldemort, once and for all."

Sirius was about to argue, but he could see that the man in front of him had a point.

"So, how and when do we begin?" wondered Sirius.

AC smiled and responded, "We begin, tonight, by your writing a letter to the head of the DMLE, telling Madam Bones that you will turn yourself in, for a fair trial under veritas serum and that you can produce evidence to prove that you are innocent."

* * *

FI 10.6

* * *

Three days later Sirius Black walked into an open field, outside of London, at a place he had described to the Director of the DMLE. He had explained in his letter that he would arrive unarmed, and carrying a box which held the proof of his innocence. He also explained that if there were any dementors in the area that he would not show up. Amelia Bones, for her part, did not trust the Minster of Magic to not interfere so she made the arrangements for apprehending the escaped convict and supposed mass murderer by showing up personally with 4 of her most skilled Aurors.

The group of five stood in the field, standing about twenty feet apart from each other so as not to make an easy target for anyone who would choose to attack them. The time of the pre arranged arrival of Sirius Black was nearly at hand when they noticed a disturbance in the long grass on one side of the field. Hidden in the long grass, Sirius transformed from his animagus form of a large dog, who had stealthily crawled into the clearing from the nearby woods, and held his hands above his head, holding a box that held the promised evidence.

The Aurors were startled at his appearance, and one of them cast a stunner at him. Sirius was able to side step the spell and called out quickly, "Bloody hell, I said I wouldn't be armed and I have the evidence in my hands. Don't stun me, mate! Don't stun me! I said I will come with you and answer your questions under veritas serum. I have a prepared statement already written out, and it is in the box with the evidence!"

"I say we kill him now!" called out Dawlish.

"Stand down," ordered Madam Bones. "We can easily apprehend him without killing him." She then turned to face Sirius. "I did review the records after I received your letter, and you were truthful when you stated that you never received a trial. I assure you that such an error will not happen again. You will receive your trial and you will be punished accordingly!"

Sirius called back, "All I am asking for is a fair hearing, for the evidence to be properly examined and for questioning under veritas serum. Then do with me what you will."

By this time Kingsley Shacklebolt had arrived next to him and shook his head. "You were a good auror, Black, and I swear on James and Lily's graves you better be telling the truth or I will personally see that you join them in death."

Sirius slowly turned his head to face the tall dark skinned auror. "I have no doubt that you would, my old friend, but if you knew me at all you would know that I could have never done what I was accused of doing." Sirius had a tear forming in the corner of his eye as he recalled that night that his best friend and his wife had been murdered all those years ago. "Please, just give me a chance to tell my side, the chance I was never given all those years ago."

Kingsley nodded ever so slightly at Sirius before casting a binding spell on his arms and his legs. "At least now you're not going anywhere without our permission," stated Shacklebolt.

"Check him for a wand or weapons," called out Madam Bones. "Then side along apparate him to the prepared holding cell.

He orders were carried out immediately and ten minutes later Sirius was sitting in a chair in a holding cell, his arms and legs bound to the chair. Madam Bones and the other Aurors were sitting in the room with him with a court approved scribe to document the interrogation.

"We shall begin by administering the veritas serum," began Amelia. She nodded to the DMLE healer who was present who administered three drops of veritas serum into Sirius Black's mouth.

As they waited for the serum to take full affect, she opened the box and discovered the parchment with his written statement and an inanimate rat. "Is that rat alive?" she demanded, trying not to sound too startled by her discovery.

"Yes, he is, just placed under a stasis charm," commented Sirius.

"Why did you bring a rat?" asked Dawlish.

Amelia glared at the brash Auror, "I will be the one asking the questions, Dawlish," she stated, reprimanding him. Then she turned back to the fugitive whom they had detained. "Please explain the reason behind this rodent appearing in this box."

"That rat is the betrayer of the Potters," Sirius began. "That is Peter Pettigrew and, no, he did _not_ die that night. He was secretly a Death Eater, and he was also the Potter's secret keeper for the Fidelius charm that protected their location. Everyone thought it must be me, so I suggested that we make Peter the secret keeper, as nobody would suspect him. He killed the muggles by blowing up the gas line that night, then cut of his own finger before he transformed himself into the rat that you see there. He was an unregistered animagus."

"But we have the report from eyewitnesses that heard you tell Pettigrew that you betrayed the Potters," argued Amelia.

Sirius had obvious tears in his eyes as he once again was reminded of the events of that night so long ago. "I betrayed them by foolishly persuading James and Lily to change their secret keeper from me to Peter. I would have rather have been captured by Death Eaters and died while being tortured by them rather than allow the Dark Wanker to be able to find them!"

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" called out Dawlish.

Amelia Bones glared at the Auror who once again was being insubordinate.

"He is still under veritas serum," commented Shacklebolt quietly.

"That's enough," declared Madam Bones sharply. Then she turned back to Sirius. "So, we can transform him back to his true self, and question him as well under veritas serum."

"That is what I was hoping that you would do," replied Sirius.

"But can you explain how you escaped from Azkaban," questioned Amelia.

Sirius shifted slightly in his seat. "Like Peter, I am also an unregistered animagus. I transformed myself into my dog form when I had lost enough weight so that I was able to slip between the bars of my cell. I jumped off the island, and swam to shore in my dog form."

"But surely you knew that such an attempt to escape would most likely have led to your death by drowning in the sea," commented Bones.

"Once I saw that picture of the Weasley family on vacation, with that rat with them, I knew that Peter was still alive," declared Sirius, "and I knew that I would not rest until I had vengeance against the man who betrayed my brother and his family."

"He betrayed Regulus?" asked the confused director.

"Huh? No! He betrayed James, James Potter! James was more of a brother to me than Regulus ever was," explained Sirius. "I took an oath as Harry's godfather, I could never have betrayed Harry, or James, or Lily."

"Bring in another chair," commanded Amelia.

Another chair was quickly procured, and then they placed the rat on the chair. Shacklebolt then cast a spell to reverse the animagus transformation and suddenly Peter Pettigrew appeared in human form sitting on the chair. The dark skinned Auror then cast binding spells to secure the previously presumed dead wizard to the chair.

"Place a magic restraining charm over him so that he cannot transform back into a rat," ordered Amelia as everyone was reacting to the sight of the individual who had previously been presumed dead.

Shacklebolt quickly cast the charm and everyone relaxed a little. Then the Aurors enervated that recently transformed man who came to with a start. He started to sniff around just like a rodent until he suddenly realised he was in his human form, bound to a chair and seemingly in the presence of several Aurors. He gulped as he surveyed the room more closely and then he noted Sirius Black in the room with him. "Oh Merlin," he cried out, "that's the one right there, he's the one who betrayed the Potters! I've been hiding for my safety ever since that night!"

No one responded to his pleas for a moment. The balding man looked around and realised that the stern faced woman with the monocle must be Amelia Bones, the director of the DMLE. While he has spent the better part of the past 12 years as a rat he had still overheard much of the news of the wizarding world while he was at the Weasley's home.

"Mr. Pettigrew," began the director cooly, "we have already heard sworn testimony, under veritas serum, from Mr. Black. So, now that you are awake, we shall conduct an interview with you under veritas serum as well."

"But you can't do that," protested Peter as he struggled against his bonds.

"And why is that?" asked the director who was growing impatient with the man.

"Because, because," he stammered as he tried to come up with an excuse, "because I have rights. You can't interrogate me that way!"

"We can," averred Amelia, "and we will. Or we can just have your testimony in front of the entire Wizengamot, and suggest that once we prove you are guilty of arranging the death of a lord of a noble and ancient house, as well as framing the heir of a most noble and ancient house for the deed, I think that the members would most likely vote to have you either thrown through the veil or kissed by a dementor. Or we can start with a confession now and see where this might lead."

Peter began to whimper in fear. "Fine, fine, I'll do whatever you want," he pleaded, fearing either threatened punishment.

"Very well," she said and then indicated for the DMLE healer to administer the veritas serum to the man.

They waited a minute for the serum to take effect.

"Please state your name," commanded Amelia.

"Peter Pettigrew," said the wizard, the whinging not leaving his voice.

"Can you tell us what you did on the day of October 31, 1981? Who did you meet with?" asked the director.

His voice continued to stammer, "I, I met with the Dark Lord, He Who Must Not Be Named. I told him the location of where the Potters were hiding, in Godric's Hollow."

"Why did you do that?" she asked in follow up.

"Because I had become a Death Eater, and I was hoping to please the Dark Lord," answered the balding man. "He promised power and rewards for anyone who would help him with finding the Potters or the Longbottoms."

"Why did you betray your friends?" she asked pointedly.

"Friends? James was not my friend," declared Peter. "He was a pure-blood, a bully. How was he any different from the Dark Lord? Just because he sided with Dumbledore, did that make him better? I was the odd one in the Marauders in school. James and Sirius, they were the handsome ones, the ones all the girls wanted to be with. Remus was the smart one who everyone looked up to. They all pranked the Slytherins mercilessly throughout school and even beyond. If I hadn't met them on the train that first year, they probably would have been pranking me too. But once school was over, they didn't need me. I wasn't skilled enough to be an Auror. I didn't come from a wealthy pure-blood family. They had no time for me. They had nothing to offer me, and why would they? But no, the Dark Lord, he rewarded his followers. I was promised riches, and I was promised witches, money and power and women, things I could never get without the help of the Dark Lord. For what? Just for turning over a school yard bully."

"James was more than a school yard bully," spat Sirius. "Why did I ever doubt Remus? I should never have suggested anyone else be their secret keeper!"

"Calm down, Black," called out Madam Bones, her tone harsh enough to get the distraught lord to get a hold of his emotions. Then she turned to face Pettigrew once again. "So, no one forced you to become a Death Eater, no one forced you to take the mark?"

Shacklebolt pointed to the man's left arm where the faded Dark Mark appeared, proving his allegiance to Lord Voldemort.

"Of course I took the Dark Mark," replied Peter. "Anyone who wanted to serve him took the mark. You had to take it willingly, or it wouldn't work the way he wanted it to work. It was my chance, my one and only chance to become a real wizard, a real wizard who mattered in this world."

"Then why did you kill all those muggles that night? Why blow up the street?" asked Amelia, wanting to get as much detail as possible.

"Why? Because of that damned man there, Black. Sirius Black knew that I had betrayed the Potters because I was the only one who could have done that. He found me on the street that night. I knew I had no way to get away from him. I would never make it back to the safety of the other Death Eaters, but they would probably have hunted me down anyway because their master, our master, had been defeated by a baby! By a lousy, crying, spoiled baby! But Sirius, he wouldn't let me leave, he wouldn't let me escape. Then he started talking about how he had betrayed the Potters. I knew he said that because he was the one who suggested that I become the secret keeper. But anyone who heard what he said, they would have no idea what he really meant. That was my chance. My one chance, and I took it, I cut off my finger as proof I was there; I blasted the hole in the ground, and I didn't even know the gas line was there. But once the explosion happened and I heard the screams, I realised that everyone would blame Sirius and I could escape. I transformed into a rat, and escaped into the sewers where the explosion had occurred."

"But why cut off your finger?" asked the director.

"I was hoping for an explosion, I just didn't know it would be that big," explained Peter. "But I cut of the finger before the explosion so that the Aurors might find something left behind, thinking that I had been blown up at the same time. That way they wouldn't try and find me."

"You're much smarter than I ever gave you credit for," snapped Sirius. "You had us all fooled throughout school, and then you pulled off the biggest betrayal I have ever heard of, and you even set me up to take the fall after you basically killed James and Lily, and you're guilty of conspiring to kill Harry, to kill a defenceless toddler! You make me sick!"

"Once again, calm down, Black," snapped the director. "While this testimony will more than likely lead to your exoneration, may I remind you that you are not free yet."

The director then turned to the court recorder, "Do you have everything in order so we can present this to the Minister and to the magical people as well?"

The recorder acknowledged that yes, she did have all of the information. Amelia then turned to the other Aurors in the room. "Rufus, Kingsley, please go let the Minister of Magic he is needed in here immediately, and then we will arrange for a press conference in thirty minutes.

A few minutes later the door to the interrogation room burst open as Cornelius Fudge stumbled in complaining about having his afternoon meetings ruined without so much as an explanation. He turned and looked at Amelia and stated, "You better have a good reason for this, director!"

Then he looked around the room and noticed Sirius Black, sitting calmly in a chair. "Arrest that man!" he called out. "Summon the dementors! Have him kissed immediately!"

"Cornelius, that is enough!" replied Madam Bones sharply. "He is already apprehended and he is securely bound. Besides, he is innocent!"

"Innocent?" questioned the minister. "But I was there, I heard him yell that he betrayed the Potters. He killed Peter Pettigrew!"

Amelia rolled her eyes and pointed to the other man who was bound to a chair in the room.

Cornelius turned and looked at the man. Then he leaned a little closer and squinted his eyes. Then he slowly turned back to face the head of the DMLE. "That's Pettigrew?" he whispered. "But he's dead. We already awarded him the Order of Merlin, First Class, posthumously. He can't be alive."

"That is Peter Pettigrew and we have a full confession, already testified to under veritas serum," she stated calmly and succinctly.

"But what about Black?" wondered the confused minister.

"Black is innocent, we have his full statement, also given to us under veritas serum," explained the director.

"But he was found guilty and sent to Azkaban," protested Fudge.

"He was never found guilty as he was never given a trial," corrected Amelia.

"But, but, but that's not my fault!" argued the minister.

"Precisely, as you were not the minister at the time he was sent to Azkaban," agreed Madam Bones. "In fact, think of the positive publicity you may receive when you explain to everyone how you are correcting a terrible miscarriage of justice, and how Sirius Black is innocent, and how the real betrayer of the Potter's had not only been captured but has confessed."

"I can? I will? But, when is all of this going to happen?" wondered the minister.

"We are arranging a press conference right now, should begin in about fifteen minutes, right in the atrium," explained Amelia.

"But I don't know what to say, or where to begin," stated the minister, feeling a little queasy at the thought of explaining this entire debacle.

"No problem, minister," replied Amelia with a broad smile, "just announce that the DMLE has an important public announcement to make, and I will take it over from there."

Cornelius smiled at that, "I like that, I can work with that."

"Oh, and minister," added Madam Bones, "as soon as we are done with the press conference, please recall all of the dementors back to Azkaban right away. We don't need to terrorise the poor students at Hogwarts any longer, now do we."

* * *

FI 10.7

* * *

The reaction to the press conference was dramatic. Excitement and relief to hear that the notorious Sirius Black had been caught. Shock and surprise to hear that he was actually innocent and had wrongly been sent away to Azkaban. Fear as to what this all really meant. Dismay at hearing that the supposed dead hero was the villain after all. Then elation that he was not only alive, but in custody and had corroborated everything that Sirius Black had said.

The news spread throughout the wizarding world like wild fire. People cheered that the real culprit had been caught, wondered how an innocent man could have been sent to Azkaban and even survived. There was so much discussion about the news that no one in the public stopped to ask just how Sirius Black had managed to escape Azkaban.

Dinner in the Great Hall that evening was chaotic. Students had received copies of the extra printing of the Daily Prophet. There were murmurs throughout the dining room as everyone was discussing this sudden and shocking turn of events. Many eyes were looking for some sort of reaction from the Boy Who Lived, sitting amongst a small group of friends at the Gryffindor table. Harry had heard the news and was frankly unsure of how he should be feeling. A man who had been painted by the papers and even by the adults he knew as a villain who had betrayed his parents was actually his godfather, and was merely trying to avenge his parents' death. A single thought kept running through his mind. Family. He actually had family. He had a godfather. A godfather who was wrongly accused and thrown into the miserable prison of Azkaban. A man who was denied justice for years, and managed to escape that prison for the sole reason of completing his task of vengeance for Harry's parents.

Harry was used to the voices talking about him as if he wasn't there, what with the incident with everyone learning that he spoke parseltongue last year, and just with his returning to the magical world when he started school. But this was different. Harry needed to be alone, away from the stares, the not so hidden finger pointing, and the discussions about him. So Harry stood up to leave the Great Hall and wander the school on his own. He hoped that some time in solitude would help him sort out just what he was thinking.

As he rounded a corner, he heard a voice from behind him call out, "Potter, wait up."

He knew the voice, as it belonged to one of his classmates, someone who had joined him on several of his adventures over the past couple of years. Daphne Greengrass. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the cute blonde following him and calling out to him, but he knew enough that it would be rude to not at least turn around to see what she wanted.

"Potter," she called out again, "I read the news. Well, we all read the news, or heard of it at least."

Harry wasn't sure where she was going with this and just stared at her in silence, letting her continue.

Daphne was unsure of herself. She didn't even fully think about why she had come after him when she saw him leave the Great Hall. She made an excuse to her house mates that she needed to use the loo, and once she was outside of the hall she tried to track down the Boy Who Lived.

"I just thought that this news," she began slowly looking down at his shoes and not at his face, "well, it might be difficult for you to hear. I know you never talk about your family, the people you stay with over the summer, and then you came back to school this year and everyone is talking about how there is this madman who betrayed your parents and he is out to try and get you and all, and then we, and more importantly, you, learn that he never betrayed your family at all, and well, it must be a bit overwhelming."

She took a breath as she finished her comment, trying to stop herself from blushing, and silently cursing herself for showing any emotion to anyone, especially a boy.

Harry gave her a slight grin, "That almost sounded like Hermione on one of her monologues, going on like that with only one breath." He laughed awkwardly as he finished his statement.

"Yeah, well, I'm not Granger, but I thought I ought to say something," added Daphne as she turned away from looking Potter in the eyes.

"So, yeah, thanks, I think," said Harry as he shifted from one foot to the other. "I really don't know what this means for me, for this Sirius Black, or anyone really."

"Has the DMLE contacted you about any of this?" she asked.

"No one has said a bloody word to me about this yet," he replied, frustration obvious in his tone.

As Daphne was about to say something, Professor McGonagall appeared in the hallway. "Mister Potter, your presence is being requested at the headmaster's office, to meet with a representative from the DMLE."

Harry looked from his head of house to the Slytherin girl standing across from him, "Well, I guess that answers that question now, doesn't it."

Harry smiled at Daphne as he then followed the transfiguration professor to the meeting he was being called to attend.

Several minutes later Harry Potter found himself seated in front of the headmaster's desk with a stern looking woman seated between him and the headmaster.

"Now, Mister Potter," began Amelia Bones, "I am sure that this won't be easy for you, but we will be needing to arrange for a meeting with you and Sirius Black."

"Are you sure that will be necessary?" asked Dumbledore. "After all, the trial hasn't even happened yet, and we can't be sure of the outcome."

Amelia turned to face the headmaster and rolled her eyes. "Albus, please do not interrupt. This is not a Wizengamot meeting and my conversation with the young man truly does not involve you."

"But, Amelia," began Dumbledore's reply only to be cut off by the director of the DMLE.

"Do I need to ask you to step out, Albus?" she asked, and her tone made it clear that she was not about to put up with his interference.

Without waiting for the headmaster to reply she turned back to face Harry. "Now, as I was saying, Sirius Black has sufficient evidence to clear him of all charges. It will be a mere matter of formality at this point before he is freed, and I am sure that as soon as that occurs, then he would want to meet with you."

Harry looked back and forth between this woman who seemed more gentle than he originally perceived, and the headmaster who looked as if he had swallowed too many of his lemon drops. Turning to face Madam Bones his wide eyed expression asked, "But why would I need to meet with him?"

Amelia sent a glare towards the headmaster and then turned back to the young student. "If you were not already aware, Sirius Black _is_ your godfather. After being locked up in Azkaban, and wrongly at that I might add, for many years, I am sure that Lord Black would want to once again meet his godson and that he would probably want to take custody of you."

Harry was surprised to hear this bit of information, "You mean I wouldn't have to go back home to my relatives? I wouldn't have to return to my Aunt and Uncle's house?"

"Now Harry, let's not be hasty," stated the headmaster. "You haven't met Sirius Black and I am sure that your relatives would miss you."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the headmaster. "You mean they would miss abusing me, having me do their chores and labor, cook their meals, and tend their garden while they relax inside or go to the park or watch the telly?"

"Now Harry, you really shouldn't exaggerate," admonished Dumbledore.

"Exaggerate? I was down playing the way they treat me," stated Harry, almost shouting at the headmaster.

Amelia Bones' jaw dropped as she listened to what the boy who lived had just proclaimed in front of her. She softened her features as she leaned closer to him, "Now, Mister Potter, are you telling me that your guardians took advantage of you while you were under their care? Can you tell me the details of what happened? How exactly did they treat you?"

Dumbledore was about to interrupt but a wandless silencing spell hit him in the face, as it had been backhanded from the DMLE director.

"I thought my name was freak until I started school where I got in trouble for not answering to my name, Harry," he began to explain. "Dudley, that's my cousin, he and his friends, more like a gang actually, well, they used to play a game they called Harry Hunting. I had to learn to be fast and sneaky to avoid getting beaten up every day. Then there was the cupboard."

"What cupboard?" asked the director.

"The cupboard under the stairs," stated Harry. "The one that was my room until my Hogwarts letter came. In fact my letter was addressed to Harry Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive. How did the school even know that was my room? Well, once that first letter came, they tried to hide and destroy all of the other letters that came, as they wouldn't let me open any of them. So I guess they were worried that freakish magic users would show up so they moved me upstairs into Dudley's spare bedroom where he used to keep his broken toys."

Madam Bones interrupted him briefly, "You mean that they always had a room you could have used, as opposed to hiding you away in a broom closet?"

"Well, yeah," replied Harry. "Then there was the room that Dudley's Aunt Marge stays in when she comes to visit. I've never really been inside that room. But her dogs, the ones she sicks on me to attack me for sport, they apparently have their own beds in the guest room."

The room became tense with Harry's response and Madam Bones appeared to turn pale with anger. She stood up and in a clearly restrained voice she spoke to the headmaster. "Albus Dumbledore," she began in a terse tone that was barely louder than a whisper, "you must have known about his living conditions, after all it was you who sent him to live there. It was you who repeatedly told the Wizengamot that the Boy Who Lived, the saviour of the British Magical World was safe and being raised away from any adverse influences. It seems to me that you failed miserably in your self appointed role as Harry Potter's guardian. I can assure you that there will be an inquiry into all of this."

Dumbledore blanched at her accusations. "We don't know how muggles live, that might have just been some made up name for his room."

Amelia Bones restrained herself from dropping her jaw in shock at the absurdity of that statement. "If that is the case, headmaster, then perhaps you are not qualified to be his magical guardian, or the magical guardian for any muggle born witch or wizard. And, as of this moment, you are relieved of any responsibility in Mister Potter's well being. He will be a ward of the Ministry until an appropriate guardian can be found." She took a deep breath, "And no, I will not listen to more of your excuses about doing things for the boy's safety. I will personally see to his safety until he has a proper guardian. Perhaps, once he has been evaluated by a team from St. Mungo's, his godfather would fit that role for him, but we will have to wait and see.

* * *

 **AN: Chapter 11 should be up shortly...**


	11. Chapter 11 - The trial (and beyond)

**AN: 2 Chapters back to back, only because this was one really big chapter. Pay attention to the time line later in this chapter...**

* * *

C 11 The Trial and beyond

* * *

The trial for Sirius Black happened quickly and was all the magical world spoke about for days. The trial ended up being more of a formality really, as the DMLE already had sworn testimony that was presented as irrefutable. Sirius Orion Black was a free man, and a wealthy one. He still had all of the wealth of the infamous Black Family, which was only guessed at by the general magical populace, and he was awarded 50,000 galleons for each year he was imprisoned wrongfully. Sirius was evaluated by the team of healers at St. Mungo's and prescribed a regimen of potions for healing his body and his mind. A special sleep draft was made for him to take for a few weeks without the risks of prolonged use of more commonly used potions.

By the end of November, Sirius Black had returned to living at his family's home, Grimmauld Place and he was already disgusted by the old house elf, Kreacher. He had only been staying there about a week when he received a letter from Professor O'Malley, inviting him to come stay in Hogsmeade.

They met up at the Three Broomsticks one evening and Madam Rosmerta provided them a simple but private room for them to meet in and served them dinner there as well.

O'Malley began by asking a simple question, "So, my friend, how are you finding you freedom?"

Sirius smiled slightly, "It is a relief to be free, and I am feeling stronger and healthier everyday. I suppose I have you to thank for all of that. However, the Black family home is beyond dreary. The house elf is crazy and dangerous. I have half a mind to just burn the whole place down with he elf inside of it."

"You can't do that," instructed AC with a stern tone.

"Huh? Why not? It is my home," commented a surprised Sirius.

"What your brother was working on, was a way to destroy one of the afore mentioned horcruxes," explained O'Malley. "It is most likely at Grimmauld Place and in the possession of the 'crazy and dangerous' house elf."

Sirius eyed his benefactor closely, "And just how do you know all of this?"

"My secrets," stated O'Malley, "which I have yet to share with you until I am certain of your occlumency shields.

"Yeah, those damned secrets," muttered Sirius as he stabbed at his food with his fork.

"Besides, you don't have to live there," countered the professor. "You could always move to the Black estate out in the country."

"And how would you know about that?" wondered Sirius. "No one has lived there for years, it is probably in disrepair."

"One, I have my secrets, and that is how I know about the estate," AC began to explain. "Two, you're a wizard, use your brain, the Black family wouldn't let a house go to ruin just because they didn't live there. That would be a waste of an investment. Three, you have money, higher some damned house elves to fix it up. Oh, and while you're at it, place that crazy and dangerous house elf in charge and he will respect you. Obtain the horcrux that his master, Regulus, commanded him to destroy and deal with it yourself, or rather, have me deal with it, and he will worship you."

"How do you know all of this?" wondered Sirius as he considered eating his meal. But before AC could respond, he added, "Yes, I know, you have your damned bloody secrets."

AC smiled. "And do you know why the Black Family doesn't stay at the country estate?"

Sirius looked at his friend, and smiled. "Of course I do. My grandfather hated floo travel. And he didn't like being away from the ministry and the goings on in the wizarding world so he moved the whole family into London. Before that, 12 Grimmauld Place was only used for entertaining and for staying over when there were many long meetings at the ministry."

"So, you do know a lot about the family you tried to run away from," observed AC. "Fix up that estate in time for you and Harry to stay there over the upcoming holiday. It will mean everything to the young man."

Sirius smiled at that thought.

"And one you have done all of that," continued O'Malley, "and you ask your house elf for the item in question, we will have some business to conduct together. Probably best if we wait until after the first of the year."

"More of this horcrux business?" asked Sirius.

"Yes, more of this horcrux business," answered O'Malley.

The new Lord Black then asked, "How many do we need to find?"

"I already have three," replied AC, "the item from your elf would make the fourth, and the item that we need to obtain would make the fifth."

* * *

FI 11.2

* * *

Soon Sirius had arranged for the Black Estate to be reopened. He toyed with the idea of showing a gala holiday ball, but AC advised him that it would be too much, too soon. Besides, he didn't have proper time to plan and prepare for such an event.

Sirius had already appointed Kreacher as the senior house elf overseeing the newly restored estate, which caused the house elf to be a little less rude to him. Sirius was sitting in his study as he was preparing some holiday letters to be sent to various people, he decided to call on the elf.

"Kreacher, I need you as soon as you can come to me," he called out with a gentle tone. All of his instincts told him to yell and curse at the crazy old elf, but O'Malley had counselled him to refrain from being verbally abusive. The elf so far had shown little restraint in how he spoke back to him, except in front of the other elves. Then he always showed proper respect.

"What does crazy old blood traitor master want of poor old Kreacher?" asked the elf as he popped into the study.

"I have something very important to ask you, and I need you to be honest, and I need you to know that I truly mean to help," stated Sirius.

"What does crazy master want now?" asked the elf, with a little less acid in his voice.

"I said I want to help," stated Sirius, "and I happen to know that my brother, your favourite master, had given you a task to do, one which so far, you have not been successful in completing."

"Kreacher punishes himself every night for not finishing that task," stated the shocked elf. "How does crazy bad master know about this?"

"I know of the item that Regulus obtained, and that it is very dark and dangerous," continued Sirius. "I know that you have been unable to destroy it and probably cannot destroy it on your own. I know of a way to destroy it. If you give me the item, I promise you, I will destroy it, and then you will have completed Regulus' final command to you."

Kreacher's eyes seemed to widen in hope. "Bad crazy master would do all of that?"

"Yes, I would Kreacher," said Sirius softly. "For my brother, and even for you. The object has a bad magic that if not dealt with can hurt others."

There was a sudden pop and the elf disappeared leaving Sirius to wonder what had just happened. "Probably was too much for the old bugger that I offered to help him," he said out loud to the empty room.

A moment later, the house elf popped back into the study, holding an old box. Sirius noted that Kreacher's eyes were wet.

"Kreacher has done as bad crazy master has asked," proclaimed the house elf. "Now, you must do your part. You must destroy bad object."

Sirius took the box and didn't want to dare to even open it up. "I will, but I can't do it now. I have a friend who will help me with that, but I promise you, Kreacher, I will tell as soon as it is destroyed."

* * *

FI 11.3

* * *

Sirius and Harry had a wonderful holiday together. Sirius made sure that there was plenty of food and Harry had more presents than he could imagine. Harry was thrilled to receive a brand new broom for Christmas, a Firebolt.

Harry even had time to spend with friends. Neville came over to visit one day. And then Harry visited with Neville for a New Years Party, and he was pleased to see that Daphne was there as well as many friends from school. Harry wasn't upset to see Draco, just surprised that the Slytherin student who normally was so antagonistic to Neville and most of the other Gryffindor students. Neville explained that it was proper to invite anyone from their peer group, allies and enemies, to such an event as this.

Harry wondered why many of the other students weren't present, including Hermione. Neville explained that it was rare for anyone to invite a muggle born to such a function, and that he had hoped to do so, but his mother had made the invite list and sent it to the parents of the pure blood and half-blood students. They both sighed at the thought of having to follow custom rather than just have a get together with good friends, regardless of family status.

Soon they were all back in school, and AC contacted Sirius.

"It is time that we deal with obtaining the next object," stated the professor as the walked down the streets of Hogsmeade on a sunny January afternoon. "I trust that you already have obtained the other object," he added.

Sirius nodded, "A simple locket on a chain, with an ornate S on the front. Quite the nasty aura to a small piece of jewellery though."

"I can well imagine," agreed AC. "So, if you are available on Saturday, we can head out on a bit of an expedition."

"Oh? Do tell," replied Sirius.

"The fifth horcrux," stated O'Malley, "it is located outside of the village of Little Hangleton. I don't expect that it will be easy to obtain it, as there are more than likely many traps around the item to keep it safe."

"Nit surprising considering who made the bloody thing," nodded Sirius in understanding.

"So, we'll meet here at eleven," added AC, "that should leave us plenty of daylight still while we work on dealing with the traps and the wards so we can actually fetch the item."

Sirius gave the slightest of smiles, "Then Saturday morning it is."

The two parted ways and Sirius was excited to actually be doing something, anything, no matter how dangerous, but something that could help end the entire battle with Voldemort once and for all.

* * *

FI 11.4

* * *

The unlikely duo met up on Saturday in Hogsmeade and then AC apparated the two of them to the village of Little Hangleton. They made their way through the village and then out a small dirt road. In the distance there was a small clearing with a shack that became clear was in quite a state of disrepair as they got closer. When they were about three hundred yards away, Sirius put up his arm and stopped AC.

"What's the matter?" asked the history professor.

"We're not alone, I can smell someone behind us," whispered Black. "And I know who it is, the meddlesome old coot."

AC frowned, "I wondered if Dumbledore would try something like this. If we don't acknowledge his presence, he could mess up our attempts to navigate the wards."

The two stood there for a minute then together they slowly turned around. Expecting that he would be hiding from them and knowing that there was no one else around, AC called out, "Headmaster, I know that you're out there. Might as well come on out and stop sneaking around like a school boy getting into mischief."

"He'll probably hate being called a school boy," whispered Sirius.

"I heard that, and no I don't," called out Dumbledore as he came into view about thirty yards away and then started waking up towards the two. "Odd you two being out here in this quaint muggle village."

"Even odder is the fact that we're being stalked by the former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," observed Sirius.

"A title I expect to retain once again, as soon as all of this silliness over your godson is resolved," stated Albus.

"What can we help you with, headmaster?" asked O'Malley.

"I was wondering what I could help you two with," answered Dumbledore. "I find it odd that you two would be out here, together, apparently on some sort of quest."

Sirius turned towards AC and whispered, "Do you think he has any idea what we're up to?"

"I'm sure he does," answered AC without taking his eyes off of the headmaster. Then he spoke directly to the older wizard, "So, you tell me why you are really here and what you do know about this place."

"Its just a simple old muggle village," replied the headmaster.

"Then I suppose that is a simple old shack behind us," commented O'Malley.

Albus looked past the two and shrugged.

"Listen, professor, Albus, headmaster, this is ridiculous. You know that is the remains of the Gaunt family shack, and over on top of that hill over there, beyond that small graveyard, is the former Riddle Mansion." AC stood still, staring down his employer.

Albus was not able to conceal his surprise at the information that his history professor just shared.

"Don't act surprised at my knowledge," commented AC. "I am, after all, a student of history, and I found some interesting things as I studied the previous wizard wars, and various students from the fairly recent past. Odd that someone with a manufactured name, such as Voldemort, could make such an impressive debut. There is no documentation of such a name, anywhere, in the annals of magic in any country. However, the man had a former name that few if any knew, and most of his followers were clueless about, which is as he wanted. Tom Marvolo Riddle, a silly anagram for the phrase I am Lord Voldemort. Sounds like something that a pretentious child would come up with to hide his true past. Yet, no one who knows the truth has thought it potentially useful to share this information with the general wizarding public."

"You seem unusually well informed," noted the headmaster.

"It is my job to be unusually well informed," retorted O'Malley.

"So it would seem," stated Albus. "So, you learned that this is the birthplace of one of the most feared wizards to ever live."

"You and I both know that he still lives in one form or another. Quirrel proved that," added O'Malley.

"That is true, but few if any, know about that," stated Albus. Then he continued, "But what would bring you out here, to research the home village of a villainous wizard who is presumed dead?"

"The wizard, the charlatan, was known for being obsessed with many things during his time as a student," commented AC. "Researching the student records is not a difficult nor an illegal thing for a professor to do, and you know that. But still, the young man was fascinated with too many unusually dark matters. And with relics. I expect that we may yet find one such relic that the wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle might have left behind, as a memento of some sort."

Dumbledore had slowly made his way up to the two men, and wondered just how his history professor really came into such knowledge. "Then perhaps I can join you on this little quest of yours."

"That would be fine and most appreciated," replied AC.

The trio then made their way down the road and came near to the shack.

"What do you suggest?" questioned Albus.

"I suggest we check for wards, as I would expect that someone like Riddle, someone who guarded his secrets quite well, would want to protect anything he thought might have value," said AC as he took out his wand and cast detection charms. "See, there is a path that you can follow to reach the house without setting off any of these traps," he added as he made the wards glow a light blue. "We can follow that up to the house, he stated and then cast another spell that marked the path on the ground in a glowing red, which easily stood out on the cold winter ground.

"There are more wards on the shack, and the door," observed Albus as the group made their way towards the house. "And the windows are also charmed," he added.

"The roof has no wards" stated Sirius. "We could climb up, blast a hole in the roof and make our way inside," he added.

"And probably set off some sort of trap and all die," pointed out AC. "No, there has to be a different way. What exactly is the ward scheme here? It seems to be designed to let someone or some people in, but not others."

The group studied what was in front of them, and Sirius suddenly came to a realisation. "It's really quite simple," he stated, "these wards are designed to keep out muggles. If someone were to try and open the door by their own hand, it would trip the wards, whereas if a wizard were to use magic to open the door, then they would be fine."

"Are you sure, Sirius?" questioned the headmaster.

"I know it has been a long time since I worked as an Auror, but I do remember my warding," he stated. "And I needed those ward reading skills to survive more than once."

AC shrugged his shoulders and cast an opening charm on the door. The door slowly creaked open inwards, and then nothing happened.

"Is it safe to enter?" asked Dumbledore as he let the others lead the way.

"Should be," concurred the two younger wizards.

AC lead the way through the door and was soon followed by Sirius and then by Albus.

"What exactly are you looking for?" asked the headmaster.

"Oh, I don't know," AC lied smoothly, "maybe something hidden, something protected, something…"

He was cut off by Sirius who pointed at the middle of the room, "Something surrounded by a ward in the middle of the floor over there?"

The group looked to where he was pointing with his wand, and having cast a ward revealing charm there was a bright orange glow over the middle of the floor. They did not detect any other traps before they made their way to the middle of the room. It was clear that there was a loose board, and then AC used a levitation charm to lift it up from the floor and carefully laid it down on a dust covered table in the corner where there was no obvious wards or charms.

As the trio peered into the dark space, there was a small silver box hidden in the hole in the floor. AC then levitated the box out of the hole and placed it onto the table next to the board.

"Now what?" asked Sirius, knowing that the answer would clearly be to open the box.

AC then opened the lid of the box with another spell and they all looked inside. Sirius and AC felt a slight compulsion to reach into the box and grasp the ring, and they were grateful for having cast anti-compulsion charms on themselves before they left for Little Hangleton. However, the headmaster had not been so prepared and he reached in and grasped the ring and slid it onto one of his fingers. He felt a sudden shock of pain in his hand and looked upon his left fourth finger and noticed that it was starting to turn black.

"I do believe I acted a bit hasty," stated the headmaster, staring in disbelief at what was now happening.

"The ring itself must have been cursed," observed AC. He then pulled out a magical bag, held it underneath the headmaster's hand, and then he told Sirius to cast a spell on the ring to send it into the bag.

Once the ring was securely in the bag, the headmaster examined his hand more closely, before muttering, "Oh dear, I do believe that this will be quite the problem."

Sirius stared at the blackened finger, noting the slow progression of the black towards his hand. "A flesh rotting curse of some sort," he declared, "possibly developed by one of my sick and twisted ancestors.

"Oh, don't worry, Sirius, I know it is not your fault," commented Dumbledore as he continued to be fascinated by the changes in his hand.

"Perhaps the local potions master at Hogwarts can help you, or better yet, perhaps Madam Pomfrey can do something for you," suggested AC.

The three men then made their way out of the shack and once they were a good forty yards away from the shack, they apparated back to Hogsmeade. The three then made their way back up to the castle.

"Do you have any idea what that ring really is?" Dumbledore asked AC as they made their way towards the castle gate.

"I am sure you have already guessed what this most likely is, headmaster," replied AC. "I presume it is a horcrux, made by the Dark Lord himself."

Dumbledore almost tripped as he was surprised to hear such a blunt and open response. "How is it that you would know anything about such devices?"

AC reached out to help steady the headmaster, and then he answered his question. "I have spent time studying magical history and I have also done some research into dark arts. I never believed someone could do such a thing, make a horcrux that is. But it is the only thing that makes sense."

"What thing makes sense?" asked the now intrigued Dumbledore, surprised that someone had reached the same conclusions he was coming to with his study of how Voldemort, or Riddle, had managed to survive.

AC shrugged his shoulders and explained, "It became clear that Voldemort had possessed Quirrel two years ago, during my first year here. Therefor, we know that he is not dead. So I asked myself, how could he have survived? The answer was clearly by using Dark magic. And very dark magic at that."

AC then smiled as he cast a glance towards Sirius, "And in dealing with the darkest of magics, who should I have to help me other than the scion of one of the darkest families for generations? Sirius Black and his library had plenty of information to help us when the Riddle family library does not exist. Besides, what information would we expect to find? It was surprising that young Tom left anything behind in the chamber."

Dumbledore had to agree with his assessment. The group was now approaching the castle, "I suggest, gentlemen, that we discuss this no further without being absolutely sure that there are no ears to overhear our conversation."

"Understood," agreed AC. "Now, lets get you up to see Poppy."

* * *

FI 11.5

* * *

 **March 2019**

Daphne Greengrass Nott had watched as her brother in law stepped through the portal she had created with her time travel device. She could only assume that it had worked as her brother in law, Draco Malfoy had disappeared without much fanfare. Just a quick flash of light and a slight popping sound. She stared at the divide which she had created and she considered that in her rush to complete this for her brother in law, she had left out a very important feature. The device could send someone back in time, but the device stayed put. She knew that she would have to work on a way for the time portal device to project the portal for a finite amount of time after it was turned on, thereby allowing the individual to travel backwards in time and carry the device with them. She wasn't sure that if such a device would function once it moved through time with the individual holding it. But she decided that she would at least try and find out if it would work.

She arrived to her home that night after Draco had left. As she walked into the main entryway, her husband was standing there, waiting for her.

"So, my dear and devoted wife," he began in a slow drawl, "where have you been this fine evening? It is actually quite late. What is it, almost three in the morning?"

Daphne had not expected to be greeted by Theo upon her arrival. He was usually off enjoying himself with some young witch.

"I've been busy with work," she said dismissively.

Theo grabbed her arm as she tried to walk past him. He spun her around to face him. "Well, I know for certain that you haven't been running around, cheating on me. Because, after all, you are still living and breathing here in front of me."

The clear smell of fire whiskey on his breath was nauseating to her. "Of course I haven't, and you know all too well that the marriage contract magically prevents me from actively doing anything against you."

Theo smirked, "Of course it does."

Daphne had a quick thought of how to deal with her obviously drunk and irritated husband, so she leaned in tight up to him, pressing her body against his own. "So, since we both know I can't get any satisfaction unless it is with you," she whispered huskily in his ear, "what do you say to the two of us going up to your room and taking care of any and all urges?"

Theo paused as he considered his wife's offer, he pushed her away from him slightly and greedily took in her pleasant curves and beautiful face. He stood there, quietly ogling his own wife, seemingly considering her offer. Then he roughly shoved her to the floor, throwing her body away from him. "No, I can enjoy the fact that I can take you any time, any place that I want, but I am not about to give you the satisfaction of fulfilment. You can just head off to your own room, alone, once again." He sneered at her and abruptly turned around, laughing as he walked away towards the stairs.

Once her husband had left she slowly stood herself up, brushed the dust off of her clothes and smiled slightly to herself, grateful that she had successfully avoided spending any further time with the man she had grown to loathe, but still made him think that she in any way found him desirable. She knew she needed to do something to get herself out of this predicament, but right now, she needed sleep, and then she was determined to work on the advancements to her time travel device.

The next two weeks she spent long hours working on making adjustments to the portal device, and she was sure that she had found the correct runic sequence that would enable the device to create the time portal, and then for someone to pick up the device and carry it with them through the portal. The only problem which she had discovered was that she would need to use a powerful spell to be able to make the device work in such a way as that it would be able to create the portal in such a way that the device could be carried by the spell caster or the person planning to travel through time.

Daphne was in an unusually good mood when she arrived at her home that evening in early April, but she was surprised to find her husband already home and once again he appeared to be waiting for her return from her work as an unspeakable.

"So, my dear, you seem to be quite busy with your work lately," came his saccharine sweet comment to her.

"I have been busy with a special project that I have been assigned to," she said offhandedly.

Theo stepped to his side, blocking Daphne's path towards the stairs that would take her to her room.

"I'm not sure I like your long hours," he added, his voice changing to not hide his displeasure.

Daphne's eyes glared at her husband. "You know as well as I that my work as an unspeakable means that I cannot discuss it with others, and that includes you, dear husband."

Theo frowned at her abrupt dismissiveness of his protest. "Perhaps I don't like you working as an unspeakable."

Daphne rolled her eyes at his comment, "I am sorry, husband, that you disapprove of my work, but that is not something that you really have any say about. Or did you forget that my work as an unspeakable is guaranteed in the marriage contract that was written up?"

Theo narrowed his eyes as he was reminded of the one area he had no control over his wife. "That may be, but I am also curious about another problem. It appears your former brother-in-law has disappeared, and no one seems to have any idea what happened to him. Do you know anything about where Draco Malfoy may be at this time?"

Daphne knew that she was compelled to answer her husband honestly based on the marriage contract, but she was grateful for the wording of the question. "I really have no idea where Malfoy might be. Why? Are you looking for him to show him the same type of courtesies you showed my late sister, Astoria?"

Theo grit his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fists as he prepared to respond to Daphne's comment. "I have no idea what you're talking about. You know that your poor departed sister met an untimely end at the hands of some dangerous muggles. She shouldn't have gone wandering off in London that night."

Daphne hesitated before she responded to her husband. "You can keep telling yourself that lie. And you don't have to worry because you know that I can't say anything to anyone that would go against you." At least not while you're alive, she thought to herself, but she knew that she personally was powerless to do anything about him.

Theo looked her up and down once more before he snapped at her, "You better be more careful, is all that I am saying, and you better be home earlier. No more late nights at work. I want to know where you are and what you're up to."

"Like I said, all that I have been up to is working on my special project for the Department of Mysteries," she added.

Theo did not like her answer but he saw no point in continuing this argument so he turned and marched off towards his private study.

* * *

FI 11.6

* * *

(2019)

Two weeks later and Daphne was sure she had solved her remaining problems. She had added a cover over part of the device, a runic pattern of its own that would help power the device, although it would require channeling magical energy into the device it contained within, and it should allow the device to be activated, and then picked up by the person using and it and brought with them to wherever, or more precisely, whenever they were going.

Daphne decided that this evening would be as good time as any to try out and see how it works. She had prepared the basement room much like she had the night that Draco had made his jump back in time. She busied herself with the required diagnostic spells to make sure that all of the runes and the time turner dust were all prepared just as her notes indicated they would need to be. She stepped back and inspected the device and pulled out her wand as she prepared to charge the device.

Then suddenly there was a voice coming from behind her. "My, my, my, what have we here? My wife is not just working at the Department of Mysteries, she has some sort of secret project down here in the basement of Greengrass Imports," declared Theodore Nott.

Daphne spun around and stared at her husband who was causally holding his wand in his right hand as he grinned maliciously at her.

"Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath as she tried to figure out a way out of this situation.

* * *

 **AN: Also, thanks to review delia cerrano - who actually gave input to this story and the current additional time travel arc that is being developed...This is a first for me as I have never altered a story based on comments from a review before...and I initially didn't think it was feasible to include such an arc...but I am managing it...and I think it works well...or will work well...**


	12. Chapter 12 - The Fourth Year

C12 Fourth Year

* * *

The news of Sirius Black's freedom and the capture and subsequent confession of one Peter Pettigrew did not sit well with everyone in magical Britain. In fact there were some who were quite upset about the entire situation. Most of those individuals had a certain inclination to wearing black robes and masks with snake like eye slits.

Selwyn sat in the dingy pub reviewing the most recent article in the Daily Prophet that had yet another article on how the ministry was striving to improve the lot of everyone. And everyone win this instance included the half bloods and the muggle born. While he did not have any children, and therefor had no direct connection with the happenings at Hogwarts, he did hear plenty of stories from his fellow former Death Eaters who did have children at the school. This new history professor that had been there for the past few years was making waves within the magical community and people might become set against the goals of his former group. He considered what his options would be, and he also considered the rumours of Lord Voldemort having returned to Hogwarts by possessing a professor just a couple of years prior. Being a determined and curious sort, Selwyn had learned that the late Quirinius Quirrel had traveled to Albania prior to assuming the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, and he assumed that was where the man encountered the wraith of the Dark Lord. Perhaps, he thought to himself, the Dark Lord has once again returned to such a place.

So, feeling a little sense of adventure, as well as being driven by the desire to turn about the changes that were happening in the magical world, he set out for Albania, hoping to find a clue as to the Dark Lord's whereabouts. He arrived in Tirana and started to ask about any unusual occurrences in the countryside. Being that Albania had recently opened their borders to people travelling from the West, tourists were a relatively new sort. Selwyn ignored the comments about arrogant English speakers refusing to try and communicate in their native language, but the statements were not made directly to him, as the various people he spoke with had hoped to be able to do business with him and take whatever money they could from him. He entertained some of the merchants with his questions about strange happenings, explaining that he was always looking for adventures. One shop keeper told him of stories which they had heard on and off of unusual happenings near Mount Dajt. The usual hunts for wild boar that some of the local townspeople would embark on, despite it being in a national park, were turning out to not even yield any sitings of the boars, let alone actually successfully shoot one such beast. In fact, the local people were beginning to speak about mysterious happenings in the woods of the park, considering it to be haunted. Others just dismissed the reports as foolish superstitions, but no one really wanted to go investigate. Selwyn was convinced he was onto something, and began to explore the forests in the park. It wasn't long until he noticed that the mark on his arm was beginning to darken slightly.

* * *

12.1

* * *

 _Summertime in England_

AC sat down at the Black Estate with his new colleague, Lord Sirius Black. There was a large box that was magically sealed sitting on a small table at the other side of the room.

"So, we have those five horrible things," commented Sirius, "and how long before we can destroy them?"

AC reviewed in his mind the five known horcruxes, which included the diary, Hufflepuff's Cup, the Ravenclaw Diadem, the Gaunt Ring and the Slytherin locket. "I suppose at this point there is no need to keep them around, but what I am unsure of is whether or not the Dark Lord will be able to sense their destruction. If he can, and he does, then he may end up changing his plans, and that would make everything much more difficult, and that would easily make him more dangerous."

"Then what do you suggest?" asked Sirius.

"We wait until June," stated AC.

"Why June? That seems like quite a long time off from now," observed Sirius.

"Because the event that we need to deal with will occur on June 24," offered AC.

Sirius was surprised by that response. "How the hell do you know that? Are you some sort of seer?"

"Secrets, my secrets," stated AC. "And before you get going again, I know you have been reinforcing your occlumency shields, so perhaps it is finally time that I share with you my secrets."

Sirius had tired of asking and repeatedly being put off by O'Malley when it came to the subject of his 'secrets.' Then he felt the sudden and unexpected push on his mind as O'Malley used legilimency to try and pry into his thoughts. Immediately Sirius reacted by putting up his defences and shutting out the attempted intrusion. Sirius sighed in relief once he felt AC stop his attack. Then his mind was slammed by a much harder attack from the history of magic professor but after the initial surprise he was able to defend his mind and his memories.

Sirius growled as he stood up and drew his wand.

"Relax, my friend," stated AC calmly and quietly as he held up his hands, "just making sure I can trust your mind with my secrets."

Sirius shook himself slightly and then sat back down after pocketing his wand. "I'd be much obliged if you don't try and pull something like that again. Ever."

"Understood," said AC with a smile. Then after a brief pause he looked directly at Sirius and grinned slightly. "So, do you have any theories as to what my secrets could be?"

Sirius gave a non comital shrug. "Somehow you know an awful lot about the dark wanker, so if you weren't one of his insiders or inner circle, or what ever, then you must have some access to knowledge that no one else knows, not even Albus Pussyfoot Wonder fool Bastard Dumbledore knows some of the things you know. So either you rip the information out of peoples' minds, which doesn't seem like your style despite what you just tried to do to me, you have a special source for this information."

AC did not give the man much of a reaction. "Well, there currently aren't any of the inner circle running around, so that wouldn't work to well as a special source." AC let those words sink in, then he added, "I think I have proved myself to you as trustworthy and honest. You are once again a free man and you have been vindicated for the false crimes of which you were accused. So, I am going to trust that you don't overreact."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at those words.

AC then pulled back his left sleeve and showed Sirius his forearm. The Lord Black leaned forward and examined the arm, seeing a faint scar, but no evidence of a tattoo. He looked at the arm and then up at the man sitting across from him. He mouthed a few words, but then AC began to speak.

"If you were to look at the current potions professor's left arm, you would see a very different mark," AC began by way of explanation.

"Oh, and what would that difference be?" demanded Sirius, irritation rising in his voice.

"His mark would be returning, getting darker," came the simple answer.

"If Snivellus' mark is returning, then why isn't yours?"

AC took a deep breath as he considered his answer. "I believe that the issue is that when your godson defeated Riddle once and for all at the end of his seventh year, that the magic that made this scar completely went away, allowing this mark on my arm to fade. I am sure that due to the cursed nature of the mark, that the skin itself will never completely heal. However, there is no magic in my scar and it will not change, no matter what Riddle does now."

Sirius started to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. He stuttered over his next attempt to speak as his mind raced to try and comprehend what he had been told. "Wait, wait, wait just a damned bloody minute here. You're saying, or you're claiming, that you already lived through this, that my godson somehow defeats Mouldy Shorts and we all survive?"

"One, I am from the future. Two, your godson does defeat 'Mouldy Shorts' as you oh so eloquently described Riddle," acknowledged AC, then he hesitated before adding, "I never said everyone survives."

Sirius thought about those words for a moment then he came to a sudden clear and horrific revelation. He swallowed hard before he asked, "How, how do I die? When do I die? Wait, I'm not really sure I want to know that."

There was an eerie silence in the room before Sirius spoke again. "Who are you and why the bloody hell would you come back in time? You said Harry won, that Harry beat him. But at what cost?"

"Aye, there's the rub," said AC with a slight smile returning to his face. "The cost of victory was the loss of many lives, many people whom Harry cared about. Oh, he did go on to have a family, but from my observation, he was never truly happy. But that is not why I came back. Harry Potter may have killed the Dark Lord, but that did nothing really to stop the disease that allowed him to come to power in the first place."

Sirius was trying to follow the conversation and felt at a loss. "And what illness is that?"

AC laughed at the man in front of him for a moment. "You of all people should know and understand. What disease led you to run away from your home? What disease caused people to ridicule your best friend's wife no matter how skilled she was a witch? What disease allows some of the best wizards and witches to become useless in this society? What disease allows incompetent in-bread fools to run everything?"

Sirius now was beginning to understand. "The pure-blood doctrine of superiority," he whispered to himself. He looked up at AC, "But how do we fight that?"

"We start by educating the masses," proclaimed O'Malley. "An ignorant population is too easy to control. The next step is eliminating Riddle before he gets any real power. He managed to take over the ministry in my youth, and we can't allow that to happen again."

Sirius nodded in understanding of the other man's plan. Then he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he looked more closely at the man sitting across from him. "Just who are you, really?"

"You know my name, I really only changed it slightly," smirked the professor, "however for some odd reason magicals really aren't that smart at figuring some things out."

Sirius puzzled over the newer information for a moment. "AC O'Malley? But I never heard of any O'Malley's before."

"You've said that previously and you're right, there aren't any," replied AC.

"Doctor AC," began Sirius again. Then he asked, "What does the AC stand for?"

"Nothing, its just a part of my name," he said with a smile.

Sirius then took a piece of parchment and a quill and write out the name. He stared at it for a moment. Then he started to mouth out words, then he slowly came to a realisation. "Draco? Draco Malley is Draco Malfoy? You're my cousin's son?"

"Please don't blame me for my family background," stated AC. "My father taught me the blood-supremacy nonsense since I was an infant, and it led to the near destruction of our world and eventually the murder of my wife."

"Ah, the real reason you came back in time," observed Sirius.

"The motivation may have been influenced by that event, but the real reason was to try and effect a change that would put an end to the tyranny of the blood purists," he said, venom clear in his voice.

Sirius nodded slowly then asked some more questions. "So, how did you learn all about what needs to be done? Does everybody in the future know all that you know? And what the hell happened to me?"

"I got my information from someone who in the original timeline was a close associate of Harry's," confided AC, "however, this time around, not so much. And no, I did not directly affect that, it is just that Harry has been able to see the truth behind many of his relationships. Honestly, when I was a student, I couldn't much stand the kid. But what I do understand now, is that he is crucial in the defeat of Riddle." AC took a deep breath and took a moment to relax. Then he added, "And the changes that are happening may actually lead to Harry being happier."

"Harry being happy is good," agreed Sirius. "But what about what happened?"

"Let me give a quick overview of important events from the original timeline," replied AC. "First of all, Dumbledore kept Harry in the dark about almost everything. First year he and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger tried to find the Philosopher's Stone, leading to Harry facing a professor who was possessed by Riddle's shade alone. In his original second year he had to rescue Ginevra Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets and face a 60 foot basilisk alone, and nearly died, while confronting another version of Riddle that came out of one of the horcruxes and he had no idea what he was dealing with. As we have already gone over the events of the first two years of Harry's life, you already know about what has actually happened. This past year in the original time line everyone thought that you were out to kill Harry. Obviously we changed those events and you have the one thing you never obtained, your freedom."

"What? You mean Dumbledore never helped me get exonerated?" Sirius was disgusted as he continued, "That meddling wanker!" Sirius took a deep breath and calmed himself, "So, then what do we have to look forward to this year?"

"Let me summarise what I know of the next several years of school for Harry," stated AC. "This summer is the Quidditch World Cup, and Death Eaters will attack the crowd after the match is over, which Ireland will win, by the way. Then someone casts the Dark Mark. Harry's fourth year of school is marked by the reconvening of the Triwizard Tournament. The ministry in all of their wisdom, actually put in an age restriction. But somehow Harry ends up entered as a fourth champion."

"What? He would never do something like that!" proclaimed Sirius.

"No, of course not," agreed AC, "but at the time there were plenty of people, myself included, who looking back on Harry's unusual escapades felt he was just a glory seeking spoiled brat. So, he was pretty much ostracised throughout the year. Outflying a dragon during the first task won over some of his former friends. While he took too long on the second task, he did save two of the hostages, his own and the French student's hostage. So, he impressed a few more people. But the big issue was the third and final task, which other's helped him win." AC waved off protests from Sirius. "No, don't misunderstand me, in hindsight it was all a set up from the Dark Lord. He arranged for Harry to be entered and he wanted Harry to win. The cup, the prize, was in the centre of this maze they held built, and it was changed into a port key to bring Harry to somewhere away from the school, to be used in a ritual to bring back Riddle. The real Hogwarts champion was killed. Riddle got a new body, and Harry, well he pulled off one of his amazing fetes and escaped, even brought back that Diggory boy's body."

"Merlin's hairy balls," muttered Sirius listening to all of this.

"By the way, Black," added AC, "you weren't the first person to escape from Azkaban."

Sirius was woken up from his mind wandering about Harry's potential exploits. He looked sharply at the man across from him, "What do you mean? Who else could have escaped?"

"Barty Crouch, Junior," said AC softly.

"No way, he died in Azkaban," argued Sirius, "with my keen hearing in my animagus form, I heard them talking about it. His body was found, he had died, and he was buried. You can't fake your death there."

"He didn't die," asserted AC. Then he held up a hand to stop Sirius' continued argument. "Oh, yes, someone died in that cell, and that someone simply _looked_ like Barty Junior, but they were not Barty Junior. According to my source, it was Barty's dear old mum, who had contracted some fatal illness. Barty Senior brought his wife to visit their son. They must have used polyjuice potion, exchanged places."

Sirius began to protest again, "But, it is illegal to bring in potions…"

"Who is going to search the former head of the DMLE, the man who sentenced his own son to life on that forsaken rock? No one," AC answered himself, "so he arranged a more perfect escape for his son than you did, as no one even knows that Barty Junior is still alive. Well, no one, other than you, and me, and Barty and probably pretty soon, the Dark Lord."

"We have do something then, let the DMLE know!" exclaimed Sirius.

"We are not doing anything about that," stated AC calmly.

Sirius was surprised by the response from his benefactor. "What?! Why?!"

"Think, man, think," chastised AC. "We need to allow certain events play out so that we know where and when we will find Riddle. We know what Barty Junior's next moves are going to be. We know what Riddle's plans are. Also, if we play this right, we can expose Riddle for the fraud he is, a half-blood born to a muggle and a near squib. That in and of itself will be detrimental to the pure-blood cause."

Sirius nodded in understanding. "So, we just sit back and watch what happens? How do we keep Harry safe?"

"Young Mister Potter did all right on his own without anyone interfering the last time," stated AC, "so I doubt anything untoward will happen. Besides, we know who to pay attention to, and we have our own plan which no one else really knows about."

"Except Dumbledore," corrected Sirius.

"He knows we have the horcruxes, and he knows we plan on destroying them," acknowledged AC. "I am not sure exactly how much he does know, however, in his foolishness, he accelerated his own death by two years."

"What are you talking about?"

"He did the same thing in my past, but two years from now. Snape managed to slow down the progress of the curse, but it ultimately was going to kill him then, and I expect it will have the same end result now," explained AC.

Sirius was deep in thought as he considered what he had just heard. Then he asked about his own future. "So, what did happen to me?"

AC took a deep breath, "You really want to know? Well, your cousin, Bellatrix, sent a stunning curse at you in the Department of Mysteries and you fell through the veil of death."

Sirius' jaw dropped. "A little blunt on the delivery. But that was it? I didn't go out with a bang? There's no drama and glory in just falling through the Merlin be damned veil. That's no exit. It's not worthy of being commented in songs to bring tears to young witches eyes and motivate young wizards to acts of valour."

"Well, don't worry about any of that, because it won't happen again," reassured AC.

"Oh? And how do we know that?" wondered Sirius, worrying about his future.

"Harry and his friends went to the Ministry to rescue you from Voldemort, but that was a ruse," he stated. "The Order of the Flaming Owls showed up to rescue them from my father, among other Death Eaters. That lead to the ministry witnessing Riddle fight Dumbledore and retracting all the lies they had been saying about Harry and the headmaster."

"Wait a minute, lies? What lies?"

"Don't worry about either, that much is not about to happen at all," AC said with authority.

Sirius nodded considering everything he had learned from AC, then he asked another question, "So, you and Rosmerta, you two a thing? I've never known her to be involved with anyone, at least not when I was in school. She had just started running the Three Broomsticks while I was a student."

"We're friends," replied AC hesitantly. "She knows about some of my secrets. She is the first person I learned I could really trust in the here and now."

Sirius just smirked at his benefactor. "Is that what people call it in the future? Trusting in the here and now?"

* * *

12.2

* * *

The Quidditch World Cup final was being held in England, just like AC remembered. He knew that Sirius wanted to see the World Cup with Harry, and as Sirius was considered a bit of a celebrity after having been found innocent and seen by many as a victim of the former administration, he and Harry were given tickets to the top box with the Minister for Magic and other dignitaries. Harry was just excited to be able to see the match. AC had accompanied them to the campground, but he was not going to be joining them in their seats. He was hoping to interfere with his father's involvement in the Death Eater attacks on the muggle family and the tents in parts of the campground.

The match went exactly as it had previously, with the Irish team winning when Viktor Krum, the teen prodigy playing seeker for the Bulgarian team caught the snitch and ended the game. AC wondered how many galleons he could have won if he had bet on that very ending to the match, but decided that was not anything he needed to do to call attention to himself.

That evening there was a commotion at one side of the campground. A group of Death Eaters had gathered, or at least a group dressed like Death Eaters had shown up and started to attack the tents. Quickly several Aurors arrived and the group apparated away, as far as the edge of the campground, then they had to run past the ward line before they could apparate away from the recently added magical police force that the Ministry had arranged to be present for the event.

Lucius Malfoy, however, was not a part of the evenings festivities, as just before he left his family tent to meet up with the others his tent had been knocked down by a mysteriously appearing strong gust of wind. His son, Draco, was caught up inside, and with the sudden commotion he was not able to sleep away and don his cloak and mask as a Death Eater. Once the attack of the former terrorists had begun, there was nothing left for him to do but to save face and 'escape' to safety with his son. While he was initially worried how his not showing up in time to join with Crabbe and Goyle and the others, he took his time to be sure to be seen elsewhere with Draco during the attacks, which he figured would help his image with the minister, as he had been seen clearly not participating in the activities with the Death Eaters.

Ron Weasley, however, was accosted by Barty Crouch Senior as his wand was found lying on the ground in the vicinity of where the Dark Mark was cast. It became quite apparent that Ron Weasley could not have possibly cast such a spell and his arguments that he must have dropped his wand and someone else used it were readily accepted by the two aurors that Barty Crouch had summoned over once the missing wand had been discovered.

Harry had been kept safely away from all of the post game events by an ever watchful Sirius, and they were soon back at the Black family estate not long after the chaos had been restored.

The following week, Sirius had let Harry go visit his friend Hermione in London while he met up with Professor O'Malley. The two wizards were going to review their plans for the year. They met in Diagon Alley, and the history of magic professor had prepared a private room for them to have lunch.

"So, why haven't we don't anything yet about these could horcruxes yet?" wondered Sirius as two sat down to their prepared meal.

"Black, you really are quite smart, you need to start to use that brain of yours a little more," said AC with a smile. "We know that at some point in time Riddle arrives back at his muggle family's home. No one would ever think of looking for him there. We know that at sometime he turns his snake, his little pet, Nagini, into a living horcrux."

"That can be done?" questioned Sirius. "I thought that the receptacle had to be inanimate."

AC scoffed at the comment. "It has been widely assumed that is the case, but alas, it is not so. It has been done before, using a living being as a host for a horcrux."

"But that would make the point moot, you can't live forever if your soul piece is attached to another living thing. That person or animal will die. Eventually," argued Sirius.

"However, that individual cannot ever truly defeat you," stated AC quietly.

Sirius puzzled for a moment about what AC had added. He furrowed his brow as he considered the words. "So, if your opponent has a piece of your soul inside of them, then even if they kill you, then you can return," Sirius observed as he came to understand what AC was getting at.

AC just nodded quietly.

Then Sirius' eyes went wide. He hissed his next words. "The bloody prophesy, how did she even know that would happen? He made Harry into a horcrux! That has to be it!"

AC sat impassively, allowing Lord Black to finish his emotional response to what he had discerned.

"Then Harry has to die," he muttered, "but you said he survived and that he defeated Riddle." Sirius shook his head and looked over at AC. "What in Merlin's name did you drag me into? Do we have to kill Harry so he can live?"

"Sort of," stated AC. "In my history, Riddle killed Harry using the Elder Wand. My mother witnessed the act. She was the one who was sent to confirm that Harry was in fact, dead. However, my mother actually lied. She lied to Riddle. She told him that your godson was dead. At the time, when I first learned of what she did, I didn't understand it. But with eyes opened to the truth of our magical world, the dangers of those who think like Riddle and the other Death Eaters, I saw what my mother, your cousin understood. There was more to our world than blood purity. In fact, there needs to be more to our world than this blood purity."

"Which is why you came back," said Sirius as he nodded in understanding. "But that still leaves us with Harry. You're telling me he has a horcrux inside of him? That can't be good."

"It's the basis of the connection that once discovered by Riddle, he will use against Harry, which will lead to an unfortunate series of events at the end of Harry's fifth year," commented AC, catching himself before detailing the exact circumstances of Sirius' own death. He took a slight breath before he continued, "We know how Riddle plans to return to a full body. If he senses that he has lost any of his horcruxes, then he might change his plans. We know that he will soon, if not already, turn his snake into a horcrux. We also know when he will come back to corporeal form. And we know how to defeat him as soon as that happens."

Sirius was nodding along until he finally spoke up, "What exactly do we know again? Did I miss some of this?"

"The ritual that is performed to bring Riddle back is done on the night of the third and final task of the upcoming Triwizard tournament," explained AC. "Harry's name will be placed into the Goblet of Fire and his name will come forth as a fourth champion. And this will be engineered by Barty Crouch Junior, in his guise as a professor. The ritual takes place in the graveyard where Riddle's father is buried. We just need to be there ahead of time. Destroy the horcruxes that night, deal with the snake, and then finish off Riddle once the ritual is complete."

"So, where in this story do we take care of the horcrux in Harry?"

"Well, it's still just part of a plan," commented AC.

Sirius was trying not to question everything AC was telling him. "And how do we destroy the horcruxes, including the one in my godson?"

"Well, basilisk venom works," stated AC as he scratched the side of his face lazily. "And we do know where to get some of that, actually. Then there is fiendfyre, as proven just before the final battle at Hogwarts."

"You're actually suggesting we use one of those on my godson?" gasped Sirius. "I know you said you two didn't get along well when you where a student, but Merlin's beard, that's harsh."

AC grinned slightly, "I already told you, he survived the killing curse, again, and that was witnessed by my mum. So, we could just take him out back at the Black estate and hit him with one. But, he might not forgive you, or us. But, yes, we do have basilisk venom to take care of the others. And if we had a little help from a certain phoenix, we could try it out on Harry."

Sirius shook his head. "This is getting a little intense, thinking about everything that we still have to do."

"What we need to do is establish a plan for the final night of the tournament, when Voldemort plans his ritual to return to power," asserted AC. "If we change out the skeleton in the graveyard, that might help ruin the ritual if he gets that far. However we still need a plan for his snake. Maybe the headmaster would loan you the Sword of Gryffindor? Never mind, that wouldn't work this time, it's not infused with basilisk venom."

"Can we use the killing curse on it? It's only automatic imprisonment in Azkaban if you use it against another person," added Sirius. "The curse was developed to kill animals."

"Is that what they taught you in Auror school? How naive," said AC as he shook his head again.

* * *

12.3

* * *

Mad Eye Moody made a dramatic appearance in the great hall in the middle of the Great Feast just as he had done the first time AC experienced the beginning of his fourth year. Sirius had obtained the Marauder's Map from the Weasley twins over the summer, after explaining to them what his nickname was when he was a student. He then suggested that they contact Remus Lupin for some special tutoring on the spells needed to create such a map. He even added the extra advice to tell their parents they were working on a project to improve security at the school, which easily persuaded them to allow Fred and George to set up meetings with the former DADA professor. Later that evening, AC confirmed that it was, indeed, Barty Crouch Junior who hd once again showed up impersonating the famed Auror.

The Triwizard Tournament was still being held, and many of the students once again were upset that they would not be allowed to enter because they were considered under age. The school year was once agin underway and the study group of the eight students from the four houses once again were meeting regularly with each other as they began their fourth year. The new DADA professor was at times exciting and at times plain frightening to the students as he conducted his classes with dramatic flair, and once again the Moody impostor chose to demonstrate the unforgivable curses on spiders. And once again Harry Potter managed to throw off the imperius curse relatively easily. The only other student who finally managed to throw it off was Daphne Greengrass.

Soon the contingents from Beauxbatons and from Durmstrang had arrived and the Goblet of Fire had been opened up to allow the hopeful students to enter their names. Harry was bothered by the whole ordeal and stayed away from the goblet of fire, and chose not to even watch for which students would enter their names. Several of his friends from his study group wanted to watch the goblet the night before the names would be drawn, but Harry indicated he really didn't see the point.

Professor O'Malley was keeping a close eye on Barty Crouch Junior in his guise as Mad Eye Moody. It was easy for him to track the movements of the fake professor who needed to continuously remake the poly juice potion so as to continue his disguise. It was also not hard for him to detect that the supposed retired Auror turned teacher had surreptitiously made his way to the goblet the night before the actual ceremony was to take place, and AC wondered just how Dumbledore could have allowed so much to go on right under his nose. But despite his misgivings about the infamous escaped Death Eater posing as a professor, AC knew that it was all part of the plan. Albeit Riddle's plan to resurrect himself into a new body was going to be replaced with a plan that should lead to the dark wizard's ultimate demise. It was with these thoughts passing threw his mind that the history of magic professor sat back and enjoyed dinner on Halloween night, grateful that he had actually spent all that time plying Ronald Weasley with alcohol, pretending to befriend him in the pub, just to get the details he needed about what really happened when they were in school. A small smile crossed his face as he considered that the Ron Weasley in this time line had no way of learning all the things he had shared with him when he was drunk. The irony of the situation amused Professor O'Malley to no end.

His musing was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore standing up and beginning his announcements leading up to the selection of the champions. Everything was proceeding just as he had remembered it; Fleur Delacour, the French quarter Veela, was once again chosen as the champion for Beauxbatons Academy, Viktor Krum, the international Quidditch star, was once again chosen as the champion for the Durmstrang Institute, and then Cedric Diggory was chosen as the champion for Hogwarts. AC had to calm himself as he sat there, anticipating the coming chaos as the goblet speed forth a fourth name.

"Harry Potter, come forward," called out Dumbledore as he still appeared surprised that such a thing could happen.

The entire Great Hall was murmuring as Harry slowly stood up and made his way forward. AC noticed Severus Snape stand up and make his way into the side chamber where the champions were sent. He shook his head slightly as he had not recalled that from the first time, but then again, he was too shocked as a student. Deciding that if Snape could enter the room uninvited, there was nothing to stop him from going in as well.

AC stood to one side and observed the interactions. Snape accusing Harry of cheating, the other school leaders demanding that they have a second champion, Dumbledore interrogating Harry who was as confused as ever, Fleur Delacour insulting Harry by calling him a "leetle boy", and then Moody who had also been standing in the background made the chilling pronouncement that it was clear that whoever entered Harry's name into the goblet did it because they wanted Harry to die in the tournament.

Barty Crouch Senior reviewed the rules and proclaimed that Harry must enter the tournament despite the rules being magically altered to allow only those who were of age to be allowed to enter. AC was glad he was inconspicuous as he had a hard time hiding his smirk as he realised that no one previously considered that the Ministry of Magic had just emancipated Harry Potter by declaring him a wizard who was of age. As the meeting came to an end, Professor O'Malley quickly volunteered to take Harry to his dormitory, as the hour was late and he was certain that Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had other more pressing issues to deal with that evening.

As he accompanied Harry to the Gryffindor Tower, AC struck up a conversation with the still shocked Harry.

"I do believe you, Harry," he said quietly. "I believe you when you said that you didn't enter your name in the goblet."

Harry sighed with relief, "Thank you, professor," he stammered. "I was beginning to think that no one was going to believe me."

"Oh, I would think that your true friends will believe you in this," stated AC, "but that doesn't mean things will be easy for you. I'm sure that you will do your best, and from what I know about you, Mister Potter, I expect that you will surprise a great many people with your performance in this tournament."

Harry wasn't sure how to react to the comments from his history of magic professor. The remainder of their walk to the dorm was made in silence. As they approached the door to the common room, AC smiled at Harry and advised him to meet with him in the morning if there were still concerns that he had about the tournament and everybody's reactions to his being the fourth champion.

Harry nodded and gave a slight thank you to Professor O'Malley before stating the password and walking into the Gryffindor common room.

Almost as soon as he stepped into the crowded common room, Ron Weasley called out to Harry. "You had to cheat to enter just to get more fame than the rest of us, didn't you. If you knew how to enter your name you should have told the rest of us! But no, you had to keep that a secret so you could show us all up once again!"

Harry shook his head in disbelief that his own house mates don't believe him. "I'll tell you all what I told the professors and the officials, I did not enter my name into the goblet."

"Then how did it happen?" demanded Ron with an accusatory glare.

"Professor Moody suggested that whomever entered my name did it to try and have me killed," replied Harry sullenly.

Neville came up and put his hand on Harry's shoulder in front of everyone, and then he openly declared his belief in Harry. "I'm sure you didn't enter your own name, Harry," he said clearly, "and I promise to do everything I can to help you get through this tournament."

"Like that squib can help you," snarled Ron who then looked around the room and didn't see anyone supporting him in his rant against Harry. Ron mumbled as he stormed out of the common room and made his way up to his dorm room, trying to figure out how he could take advantage of this situation. However, he fell asleep before he could think of anything truly useful.

The next morning, Harry met up with Professor O'Malley on his way to breakfast. Professor O'Malley actually have Harry a brilliant idea, but he also suggested that Harry wait until dinner that evening to make his announcement to the school, as there would be more of the students together at the same time for that meal as opposed to the staggered meal times at both breakfast and lunch.

When the evening meal was about to start, Harry walked up towards the faculty table. Snape muttered something about the foolish brat causing another scene. AC however stood up and asked Harry what he wanted, while subtly giving Harry a slight wink.

"I was hoping to address all of the students," stated Harry quietly.

"I don't think that would be a problem, Harry," responded AC who then turned to the headmaster. "That should be fine for Mister Potter to speak to everyone, shouldn't it professor?"

"I don't see the harm," agreed Dumbledore who was a little curious about what Harry was about to do.

AC then called out to everyone after using a sonorous charm on himself. "Mister Potter would like to say a few words to everyone, so please, quiet down so he can say his piece and we can then get on with our dinner."

Harry understood that Professor's O'Malley's words were meant to show no favouritism to him despite the fact that he had been the one to even suggest Harry's little speech.

Harry stood up in front of the podium and cleared his throat and pulled out his wand slowly. "I just wanted you all to know, that I did not enter my name into the goblet." He then raised his wand as he stated, "I swear on my magic that I did not knowingly enter into this tournament and who ever did enter my name did not do so under my direction nor did they do so with my permission."

Then Harry made a quick swish of his wand, and sparks flew out of the tip.

"Arrogant fool," muttered Snape.

Dumbledore stared wide eyed, surprised that this turn of events had happened. He had been hoping that Harry might have ended up more ostracised for being chosen, and now he just proved to everyone, or anyone with any sense, that he did not willingly enter the Triwizard Tournament.

O'Malley just grinned as he saw Harry take a stand for himself.

Snape noticed the smile and sneered.

AC then stood up and called out loudly, "Well, that should settle the matter of whether or not Mister Potter entered his name into this tournament. And now we all know for certain that he is an unwilling participant in the Triwizard tournament," then he looked back at Barty Crouch Senior and at Ludo Bagman before adding, "and he is being compelled to participate based on the rules set forth by the Department of Magical Games and Sports, despite his declaring last night that he did not want to participate. Is that not correct, gentlemen?"

Barty Crouch Senior glared at Professor O'Malley as he reluctantly agreed in front of all of the students that yes, Harry was being forced to compete and that no, Harry did not enter his own name into the goblet.

AC then gave a quick smile to Harry before waving him back to his seat.

* * *

12.4

* * *

 _The falling apart of the group_

Tuesday evening the group of friends found themselves in their usual study place, an old classroom they had started to occupy the previous year. Some students had taken to calling them the Hateful Eight, mostly because of how well the group performed and how they were always together. There were often a few other students who would join them, but the group had essentially been together since the assigned group projects they were given as first years, so many of their classmates felt too intimidated to even consider joining up with them.

Thirty minutes into the quiet study time, Hermione finally spoke up. "This is getting ridiculous, no one is talking, not even discussing any of our assignments. And this all because of Harry being chosen as a fourth champion. You all heard what he said tonight. He swore a magical oath, he didn't enter his own name into the cup!"

The other 6 members of the study group sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Leanne Jeffries spoke up. "But everything that happened, it's taking away from Cedric, the real Hogwarts champion."

"Hey, I never said Cedric wasn't the real champion," snapped Harry. "I thought iI made it more than clear I didn't want this and I definitely didn't ask for this."

Wayne Hopkins frowned slightly before he responded to Harry. "We get that, we really do, Harry. But in Hufflepuff, well, nothing like this ever seems to happen, where a Hufflepuff student is recognised like Cedric was when he was chosen as the Hogwarts champion. We're the house of loyalty, we have to support Cedric." The two Hufflepuffs then smiled awkwardly at Harry as they prepared to leave the classroom to head back to their dorms.

As they were preparing to leave, Morag called them out. "You're the house of loyalty, you could at least show more loyalty to your friend, our friend, Harry," observed Morag.

Harry was initially excited to hear this support from Morag, as he had been starting to fancy her a little this fall.

Then Morag continued, "I think it's just absolutely wonderful that Harry gets to compete and we get to help him! I mean, we're all just fourth years, and Harry gets to prove that he is as good as the seventh years! Isn't that exciting!"

Morag's enthusiasm came across as a fangirl's rant to Harry, who suddenly was wondering what he saw in her. He turned to Leanne, "I understand your desire to support Cedric, really, I do. And no, I won't be upset with you if you're cheering him on instead of me. So, yeah, I get it, and you don't need to feel bad about it."

Wayne and Leanne both thanked Harry for his understanding as they left the room.

Then Harry turned towards Morag, "Why would I want to do this, enter this tournament? You make it sound like it's a simple Quidditch championship. But they cancelled the Triwizard tournament in the past because students died during the competition. More than once."

Morag frowned as she listened to Harry's rebuke. "But, everyone wanted to enter the tournament. Just think of the fame, the money," she added.

Harry shook his head, "I don't need the fame, I've had more than I care to on account of this scar and what happened to my parents when I was younger."

Morag tried to encourage him, "But think of the new fame, you could actually earn it this time."

Anthony pulled her aside, giving Harry an apologetic look. "I think she's said more than she meant to," he stated, apologising on behalf of his house mate. "We probably ought to be heading back to our dorms anyway."

Anthony then led Morag out the door once they had gathered their books.

Draco and Daphne stared at the retreating forms of the Ravenclaws from their group.

"I would have thought she would have been smarter than that, you know, actually use the wit and wisdom they're supposed to have as 'Claws and figure out why you don't want any of this," commented Draco.

Harry and Hermione turned and stared in shock at Draco as he spoke his words.

Seeing their response, Draco shrugged before speaking up again. "What? Anyone who knows you would know how much you hate being reminded of your so called fame. You're famous for losing your parents and somehow surviving. That's not what anyone in their right mind would ever want. If I can figure that much out, they should have figured that out on their own already."

Daphne nodded in agreement. "We understand you better than they do, I guess, Harry. But it is getting late, and we should be heading back to our dorms."

Draco and Daphne then got their things together and got up to leave and head back to the Slytherin dorms.

It was now just the two Gryffindors left sitting in the study room.

Hermione began to apologise to Harry. "I'm sorry Harry, really I am."

Harry was puzzled by her words. "What for?"

"For the way people have been treating you," explained Hermione, "anyone who knows you, Merlin, even Draco knows you well enough to have figured this out, but, anyone would know you didn't enter this on your own."

* * *

12.5

* * *

The following week, Professor Snape was walking down a hall, and heard voices from within an old classroom. He stopped and listened to the voices and was surprised when he overheard the history of magic professor speaking with Harry Potter.

"You should trust in your strengths young man, consider the possibilities of what you might face, and then consider how you could address such obstacles or challenges on your own," stated Professor O'Malley who was clearly encouraging the unwilling participant in the tournament.

Snape was disgusted to hear a professor trying to provide assistance to the son of his life's enemy.

Later that day, Severus Snape made his way to the office of the History of Magic Professor.

He walked in, unannounced, and quickly barked at O'Malley, "Why are you aiding the brat?"

O'Malley was startled to be so rudely interrupted without so much as a knock on his door, or even an introduction. "Excuse me, professor, but who and what are you talking about?"

Snape glared at the history of magic professor. "You know very well who," he barked.

AC sat straighter in his chair and folded his hands on his desk in front of him. "Please, enlighten me."

Snape scoffed, then almost spat the name, "Potter, the ungrateful dunderhead."

AC nodded slowly, "I seem to recall that I work with him, and several other students, including your own godson, Draco, and have worked with all of them on various school projects."

Snape stiffened at that. "How would you know that he is my godson?"

AC tilted his head and made a slight frown. "I thought that was almost common knowledge. Besides, you know just as well as I do that Potter is not a dunderhead."

Snape stiffened at the comment. Then he retorted, "He is arrogant."

AC shook his head and continued to rebut the potions master's comments. "No, you just choose to see him that way. And why is that? What do you have against him? The entire school can see your prejudice against him. The students and the faculty; yet for some unknown reason, the headmaster turns a blind eye to your treatment of the young man."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the history professor. "Perhaps you are taking such a keen interest in Potter for unhealthy reasons."

"That's odd, especially to hear it from you," replied AC with a slight laugh, "considering all I have been doing is help guide him in his studies, whereas you bully him, deduct points for no real reason other than spite. Perhaps it is true that you are still working for He Who Must Not Be Named."

Snape paled, if that were possible. "You do not know that of which you speak."

"No, I think I do." O'Malley then pointed to Snape's inner left arm which had become exposed as he turned to spin around. "It seems to me that your mark is getting darker."

Snape stopped and hissed, glared at O'Malley and then reached out and pulled back on the history teacher's sleeve, revealing a faded Dark Mark that was not darkening at all.

Snape stared at the mark on the other professor's arm, and then at O'Malley as O'Malley pulled his sleeve back into place.

"Who are you? I don't recall anyone named O'Malley in the ranks of the Death Eaters," he spat.

O'Malley stared at his now covered arm for a moment before turning his glare upon Snape. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, and you don't need to know. All you know is that my mark is not active, not at all. While yours still is and seems to be reactivated. I presume that the headmaster knows of this."

Snape tried to use legilimency on O'Malley, only to be met with a fierce reaction as the history professor forced him out of his mind. Before Snape knew what was happening, O'Malley had his wand at Snape's throat.

"Don't ever even think of trying that again, Snape," hissed the usually polite and quiet professor.

Just then the headmaster came into the office and witnessed the interaction between the two professors. "Now, now, my boys, what is the problem here?"

The two professors stiffened at hearing his voice and O'Malley slowly lowered his wand but he did not put it away.

"I demand that this professor be fired for attacking and threatening another faculty member," said Snape before anyone else could say anything.

O'Malley glared at the man he once respected as his godfather. "Your potions master attacked me with legilimency, here in my own office, and I was merely defending myself and making sure that he knew he should never try doing that again. Perhaps the staff, regardless of how long they have been employed here, need to be reminded that they are not above the law, and illegal attacks on the mind of another can be punishable with time in Azkaban."

Albus Dumbledore took in a deep breath. AC noted that his right arm was already turning black and assumed that he was already dying from the curse from slipping on the ring at the end of the last school year. The headmaster noted the look on the history of magic professor's face, and he also knew more about this professor than his potions master did. "I think, gentlemen, that we would be best served if we move the remainder of this conversation back to my office."

Once they arrived at the headmaster's office, Albus sat down behind his large desk. As he did so, Severus Snape noticed the black streak on Dumbledore's arm was spreading.

Before the headmaster could begin their discussion, Snape spoke up, "The potions I have created for you do not seem to be helping much anymore."

Albus smiled slightly, "Not to worry, Severus, I believe it will be successful enough."

"Perhaps there is a different way to treat this," suggested the potions professor.

Albus shook his head, "No, Severus, I trust that you are the best potions master around, no one could prepare the necessary potions better than you."

"But sir, I have heard rumours of a new potions store in Diagon Alley," Snape continued, "actually located at the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and the quality of those potions are reported to be second to none, perhaps, dare I say it, even better than my own. Plus I understand that they are continually trying out new potions, there may be something of value there."

AC was surprised to hear about this shop as it did not sound familiar to him. The headmaster inclined his head slightly as he stated, "I will trust your judgement on this issue, Severus."

Then he turned to speak to the two professors, and tried to encourage them to work on getting along better.

However, Snape was not wanting to play nice and make friends so easily. "But sir, I have reason to believe that this man cannot be trusted," he stated strongly.

AC just shook his head and laughed. "That's rich, coming from you, of all people."

Albus just smiled at the two professors. "Now, my boys, I don't know what started this whole kerfuffle between the two of you, however I must insist that you two stop your fighting. Severus, I assure you that AC does have my full trust, and he is firmly on our side. In fact, I was with him when I made my most foolish mistake and suffered the nasty little curse that is affecting my arm."

"I'm sorry sir," stated Severus in what AC thought might be his first ever apology, "I did not realise that he was with you when that incident occurred."

"And AC, I really cannot allow you to be pulling your wand on fellow staff members like that," added Albus with a sagely smile.

AC felt a little like a child when he replied, "But he attacked me first. He attempted to use legilimency on me."

"Which should not be considered a threat to one who has occlumency shields as strong as yours," quipped Snape.

AC closed his eyes and took a moment to calm himself before responding to the potions master.

"Now that we have all aired our grievances," interrupted the headmaster, "perhaps Professor O'Malley would like to get back to his work, and you, Severus, may want to make that visit to the little shop in Diagon Alley. For the possible potions to help my little problem."

AC decided at that moment it would be a good time to leave, as he did not really want to think much more about the headmaster's last statement.

* * *

12.6

* * *

Harry was preparing himself for the first task and once again, Hagrid sent a message to him to follow him in his invisibility cloak one night. And just as it had happened in the original timeline, Harry discovered that the first task was going to include dragons. He had help from Hermione, Daphne and even Draco as they studied what they could do to help him prepare to encounter a dragon.

Once again, Harry chose to use his broom to help him fly past the dragon, and he managed to obtain his golden egg in record time compared to the other three champions.

Harry eventually discovered the clue to the egg, with a little advice from Cedric, and it wasn't long before Harry had to face the freezing waters of the Black Lake in February. However, he was surprised to see that the person who was missing, the one he would miss most, was Daphne Greengrass. He considered the thought for a moment and considering they had attended the Yule Ball together, he was not surprised.

Using the gillyweed which Neville had procured for him after getting involved with their plans for preparing for the task, Harry did not have any difficulty with making his way to the merman village where he easily released Daphne. Seeing no sign of Fleur near by when Viktor showed up in a half shark transformation and then Cedric arrived with a bubble head charm in place, Harry decided to bring back the fourth hostage, who happened to be Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle.

Harry managed to fight off the mermen and their spears and tridents while rescuing both of the young witches, and he arrived just after Cedric and Viktor. The judges immediately questioned why he had two hostages with him, he recounted that the message stated that if the champion did not successfully retrieve what was taken from them, that it would be lost forever, and he was not willing to let anyone's hostage die. An argument then broke forth as the judges claimed the hostages were never in any real danger. Fleur and her family confronted the judges, and Monsieur Delacour, the French Magical Ambassador to England, and former director of the French Auror services made it quite clear that the clue given in the egg did make it sound as though there was a serious risk to the hostages if they were not rescued in time.

Eventually the judges acquiesced and granted that the clue may have possibly been interpreted the way many of the champions understood it. They then emphasised that they had reassured the hostages that they would remain safe at all times, which was little comfort to anyone, particularly the Delacour family. Soon the presentations of scores were made, and Harry was slightly ahead of Cedric, who was a little ahead of Viktor and Fleur was now squarely in last place as she had not managed to rescue her little sister during this second task.

Harry was making his way back to the castle with Hermione, Draco and Daphne when Theodore Nott stepped out from behind a tree, accompanied by his ever present muscle, Crabbe and Goyle.

"So, Potter, you once again survived the task," he sneered. "You've been quite lucky so far, I hear there are still pretty good odds out there that you won't find a way to survive the third and final task in this little tournament."

"Shut it, Nott," snapped Harry.

"And I think that as a Gryffindor you have been spending too much time with Slytherins, particularly with miss Greengrass," added Nott. "Particularly when she should be spending time with me, as my father is working out the details of the marriage contract with her father. So, Potter, you don't want to get in trouble for besmirching the reputation of my future bride. I might be forced to take action, action that you wouldn't like."

"Bugger off, Nott," stated Draco, responding before Harry could say anything. "You're just spouting hot air, and you are no threat to Potter, here."

"Besides," added Daphne, "I wouldn't hold your breath waiting for that contract, as I'm sure that my father can easily find a more suitable mate for me than someone such as you."

Nott laughed at her comment. "Don't fool yourself Greengrass." He then turned to leave with his two large shadows right behind him, then he called back over his shoulder, "The warnings still stand, Potter."

"Pay him no mind, Harry," stated Draco as the four watched the Slytherin trio make their way back to the castle. "His family continues to lose more and more power as everyone in our society reads more of the stuff written by Professor O'Malley and others about what blood purity really means and how we should measure magical power. The world is changing around them, and they don't like it."

* * *

12.7

* * *

 **2019**

 _Then suddenly there was a voice coming from behind her. "My, my, my, what have we here? My wife is not just working at the Department of Mysteries, she has some sort of secret project down here in the basement of Greengrass Imports," declared Theodore Nott._

 _Daphne spun around and stared at her husband who was causally holding his wand in his right hand as he grinned maliciously at her._

" _Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath as she tried to figure out a way out of this situation._

Theodore Nott stepped closer to her as she tried to block his view of the device with her body.

"No use in hiding whatever it is, I know you were working on something," stated her husband. "I didn't think that Unspeakables were allowed to bring their work home with them. Maybe I should have a little chat with your supervisor."

"He doesn't know anything about what I have been doing," she said, her voice shaking slightly out of fear.

Theo raised an eyebrow at his wife's reaction. He pushed her aside and asked her what she was working on as he went to inspect the device.

"It's, it's, well it's supposed to be a time travel device," she stuttered, turning a little red in the face.

Theo inspected it more closely, and was unimpressed with what he saw. He turned and looked at Daphne and laughed in her face. He then turned his attention back to the device and tried to open it. He pried a hinged door open and looked inside. He half expected to see a time turner like contraption but all he saw was some simple metal parts, a couple of tubes and a small crystal. He then waved his wand over the device and found no evidence of any significant intrinsic magic. He then turned to face Daphne once again and tossed the device lazily in the air. She reached out to catch it, bobbled it a couple of times, and eventually dropped it. There was a slight thud as she managed to break its fall with her foot before it landed on the floor. She winced slightly in pain as the object had crashed into her foot. Theo just laughed once again.

"It has no magic, and you probably just broke it," he stated. "But then again," he continued with a much more sinister tone, "I don't believe that it is a time travel device. For one thing, it has no magic, so it couldn't possibly be something as useful as that. Secondly, I am beginning to wonder if you found a way to get around the little spell that binds you too me, because you really shouldn't be able to lie to me or betray me. So, if this was a time travel device, I know you couldn't use it to do anything to hurt me, as that would cause you to violate your vows, no matter even if you could travel back before our wedding. So, that leaves me to wonder, who did you really make this device for?"

"I made it for Draco to use," she said, afraid of her husband's reaction.

"Malfoy? That pathetic excuse of a wizard? Maybe I need to finish what I started with teaching him a lesson those few years ago," snapped Theo. He looked once again at the supposed time travel device on the floor. He reassured himself that he must be correct that the device was worthless. "I haven't seen your brother-in-law around for a while. Maybe I should go pay him a visit, and see what he has been up to," he added with a mischievous grin. He then glared once at his wife and turned and left her behind, making jokes about her supposed ability to make a time travel device.

Daphne sat down at the table in the room, and cited for a minute before she gathered her wits and settled her nerves. She took out a piece of parchment and hastily wrote a quick note on it.

"I'm worried that my husband will do something to me, and that no one will be able to find me or my body." She then signed the note and placed it in an envelope and sent it off to her best friend, Tracey Davis, via owl. Once she had sent the owl on its way she apparated to her family's import business, and made her way to the basement, just as Draco had done. She pulled out the device, and powered it with her wand. The magic emanated from the device and created a portal in front of her, and the portal was not attached to the device. Quickly she grabbed the device, and stepped through the portal.

Later that evening, Tracey Davis was surprised to receive an owl from her best friend, as she had not heard from Daphne in months. Once she read the message she grew concerned for her friend's safety and she immediately contacted her friend, Susan Bones, who was working in the DMLE.

Susan Bones and her partner, Wayne Hopkins, made their way over to the Nott household the following morning. Theo was surprised to be awoken by the Aurors, and questioned their reason for disturbing him.

"We're here to speak with your wife, Daphne," stated Susan.

"That's nice, but she isn't here," answered Theodore.

"Where can we find her?" asked Wayne.

"How in Merlin's name should I know? I'm not her keeper," snapped Theodore.

"Not from what I've heard," stated Susan, who like many others, had heard the rumours of the betrothal contract that was enacted between the two of them.

"Whatever, Bones, but I have no idea where she is," he reaffirmed.

"Then would you mind coming with us down to our offices," added Wayne.

"What the hell for?" demanded Theodore.

"To answer some questions for us," replied Wayne simply, not rising to the emotional reactions of the wizard in front of him.

"What if I say no?"

"Then we'll get a summons, and make sure the press knows all about this," threatened Susan.

"Fine, fine, but you better make sure my attorney is there before you begin asking any questions," proclaimed Theodore. "And once we're done with this charade, I'll have you both fired!"

One hour later Theodore was sitting in an interrogation room at the headquarters for the DMLE. His attorney, Blaise Zambini, was present and taking copious notes.

The DMLE director, Gawain Robards, came in and sat down opposite from Theodore Nott. "Now, Mister Nott, please tell us where your wife is, and why she can't be found."

Theodore looked to Blaise who responded with a nod. Then Theodore began to answer the question. "My wife claims she was building a time travel device, I didn't believe her. She must have travelled in time."

Robards shook his head as he looked at the man in front of him. "If it were anybody else sitting in front of me, I would laugh in their face. But you, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Then he turned to Auror Bones, "Call in Croaker!"

About ten minutes later, the head of the Unspeakables arrived at the interrogation room.

"Croaker," began Robards, "we're investigating the disappearance of one of your staff, Daphne Greengrass Nott."

Croaker nodded slightly in response to the pronouncement from the head of the DMLE.

Robards got straight to the point. "Are there any missing time turners?"

"No," came the simple reply.

Robards continued, "Was Daphne Greengrass Nott working on a time travel device?"

"No," answered the head Unspeakable.

"Is there anything missing from your department that could account for someone creating a time travel device?"

Once again Croaker replied just the same, "No."

"There you have it, the possibility of her disappearance due to this excuse of time travel, has been ruled out," stated Robards looking at Nott and Zambini.

"That proves nothing," argued Nott.

Robards let out a slight chuckle, "We have a known threat, or perceived threat, on the part of the missing individual. You, and your well known contractual agreements from when you were married, as you have boasted about them often, are unable to locate your wife and prove she is alive and unharmed."

"But there is no proof of wrong doing," argued Zambini, "there is no body. Corpus delicti: without the body there is no crime."

"On the contrary," argued back Robards, "there is a body of proof — a threat, or perceived threat by the missing individual."

"You are a wizard and surely you have the means to be able to dispose of a body," continued the head of the DMLE. "The absence of her body in this case could be, would be, considered as proof of the purported wrongdoing. And as she was bound by many of the clauses in your wedding vows, she could not have just left and disappeared, and she would of necessity need to return to you if that was at all possible."

"But I didn't do anything to her," protested Nott.

"There is the letter," commented Robards. He then pulled out the note that had been sent to Tracey Davis. "This letter. Clearly, she was fearful for her very life."

"She may have been abducted and unable to return," countered Blaise.

"And who may have abducted her?" questioned Robards.

Theodore recalled the statements that Daphne had made the night before, and he had been unable to find Draco last night. "Draco Malfoy, find him and you find her."

"Funny that you mention that," stated Robards.

Nott was puzzled, "Why? I understand that no one has seen him in weeks."

Robards smiled then he continued, "According to information from Gringotts Wizarding Bank, one Draco Malfoy made arrangements for the emancipation of his son, provided him full access to the accounts of the Malfoy family, and the remains of the Greengrass Estate belonging to his late mother, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, and he, Draco, is not able to be found. In fact, Gringotts has countered that Draco Malfoy no longer exists, a simple euphemism that he is, in fact, dead. Perhaps we should look into what the goblins have to say about your wife."

"You can't do that," protested Nott.

"The goblins have no jurisdiction in wizarding affairs," countered Zambini.

Robards nodded for a moment, then he put a hand to his chin. "Actually, an official statement from the bank about the evidence of a living customer has been used as acceptable evidence in our courts. So, there is precedent for accepting testimony in the form of statements from the goblin bank."

Nott was starting to become nervous. "But she must have created a means to travel through time!"

"Perhaps we may need to call in a mind healer if your client continues these outbursts," Robards said, directing his comments to Blaise Zambini, "we have already established that she could not have possibly travelled through time."

"I've been set up!" called out Theodore. "Someone must have taken her and tried to frame me for it! I haven't done anything wrong!"

"We'll let the courts decide that," said Robards. "Aurors, take this man into custody in the holding cells." Then, before Blaise could say anything further, "You are free to file a rebuttal or objection, but we will be bringing this before the court, unless of course, you can produce a body."

* * *

12.8

* * *

 **December 2015**

Daphne Greengrass Nott stepped through the portal and initially she thought that the device didn't accomplish anything as she was standing right where she had been, in the basement of Greengrass Imports. She looked around and everything seemed to be just as it had been. Then she decided to check the time, and she called on one of the family house elves. The elf who worked for the Greengrass family business showed up, initially surprised to see Daphne in the basement. Daphne recognised him, recalling that his name was Bruiser, although for the life of her she had no idea how a gentle little elf like him had such a tough sounding name.

"Bruiser, could you tell me what day this is and what time is it?" she asked kindly.

Bruiser gave her a puzzled look before answering, "It's the night of the ministry ball, December 12, 2015. Aren't you supposed to be at the ball right now?"

Daphne recalled that this was the very night that her sister, Astoria had been found after being attacked by a group of muggles, or supposed muggles. "Of course, I will be heading there shortly, I just needed to check on something for my dear sister Astoria."

Bruiser seemed quite pacified by her answer and then after checking that she needed nothing else, he disappeared once again.

Daphne had planned to arrive on the same day as when her sister, Astoria, had been insulted by her brother in law, Daphne's husband, Theodore Nott at the ministry party. Daphne quickly transfigured her clothes, and then she apparated to an area near the ministry ball.

At the ministry party, Theodore Nott had cornered Astoria and was enjoying himself as he tormented her. Verbal jabs were made at her and her family.

Astoria knew that her brother in law was more powerful than her husband, as far as political clout went, and she decided not to make a scene after he subtly and quietly threatened her husband when no one else could hear what he had said. Astoria then left the ministry and was walking down an alley near the ministry offices.

Daphne then stepped out from the shadows, starling her sister.

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were at home nursing a bad cold or something, or at least that is what you husband said at the party," stated Astoria after she caught her breath.

"Obviously I am not at home, but I need to speak with you quickly about something very important," declared Daphne. "Actually I am at home right now, and I actually do have a bad cold."

Astoria narrowed her eyes and stepped back away from her sister. "Working with the Unspeakables has sent you round the twist."

Daphne held out a small box in front of Astoria. "I am from 3 years in the future, and this is a time travel portal that I used to come back here and warn you, that you are in danger, supposedly from muggle thug. And furthermore, tonight is the night that you died from this supposed attack, and this sent Draco into a funk which that lasted until I gave him a way to go back in time."

Astoria considered what she was hearing was either from her sister having a mental breakdown, or she might be telling her the truth. "What? Is he here too, coming to save me like some sort of ridiculous night in shining armour?"

Daphne shook her head, "No, his goal was to go back in time to change things so that this wouldn't happen to you at all."

"Change things? You mean like change history?"

Daphne nodded, "Kind of, sort of. You know how he is. He has been studying history to become an expert and he told me that he knew what needed to be done, to not only end the war early but to stop the ridiculous pure-blood supremacy movement once and for all."

Astoria face palmed, "No, no, he is such an idiot." Then she shook her head. "So, he must not have been successful if he went back in time to change things and here we are speaking about what happened. Nothing has changed, or has it?"

Daphne frowned. "That's the thing, I'm not sure exactly what has happened. It's not like we're using a time turner here, although the basic principle is similar, just magnified. But if he has gone back to change the past, where we are in time becomes a different or alternate time line. I really don't understand how this all works. Honestly I haven't had the time to fully study all of this. But I think that I still existed in my own timeline, and when I went back three years, I found you in the time line that I was living in."

Astoria still wasn't sure what this all meant. "So what are we to do about it now?"

"I came here to enable you to go back in time, to where Draco is. But you would have to go back far enough that he hasn't changed anything yet for it to work," explained Daphne.

Astoria put her hands on her hips and stared at her sister. "You're certifiably crazy, you do know that, sis."

Daphne rolled her eyes.

Astoria then continued, "So, let's assume that you're telling me the truth, and your assessment of this time travel stuff and how it works is actually correct, what happens if I don't end up in the same time line as Draco?"

Daphne took a deep breath before she replied. "You would have to find a way to make things work."

Astoria was not sure what this exactly meant. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Find him, his older self. Which won't be easy, as he will be using an alternate name, and he probably changed his looks," added Daphne.

Astoria rolled her eyes this time. "Oh, thanks! So I have to find my husband, who has a different name, looks like a different person, and doesn't even have any idea that I'm heading there, because I presume that you came up with this idea on your own, after he left you."

"Uh, yeah, thats basically about right," said Daphne as she nodded.

"You are a bloody mental case, you know," pointed out Astoria.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

Then Astoria asked another question, "So what do I do when I get to the past?"

Daphne was feeling like she was explaining magic to a muggle child. "You need to establish a new identity, find a way to support yourself, but don't try and stand out."

Astoria frowned as she considered her sister's words. "So how do I make any money in the past?"

Daphne had thought about this in her brief time to make a plan. "Use your skills, and maybe use a little trickery."

Astoria narrowed her eyes and glared at her sister.

"No, no, not that kind of trickery," corrected Daphne. "You and Draco have been running the family business and you have been having dealings with muggles. Try and think of anything muggle based that can help you make money. Hell you could even take my jewellery and hawk it to get yourself some galleons to start."

Astoria nodded slowly then she asked her sister, "But what about you?"

Daphne removed her jewellery as she ignored the question from her sister. She pulled out a small pouch for the jewellery and then she explained how the time travel device would work.

Astoria cautiously accepted the push and the device. "Now what?"

"You travel back in time, probably as far back as to before I started school. Then find a way to establish yourself and then find a way to meet up with your husband," stated Daphne.

"But he won't know I'm coming," said Astoria as she was trying to process the absurdity of the entire past several minutes.

"No, of course not, but you'd make the best surprise he ever had," said Daphne with a smile.

"But how do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"How the hell would I have found you here, in a random alley, at this time," explained Daphne. "Besides, if once you use the device you'll know I spoke the truth. And if it doesn't work, then you'll know for certain I'm crazy."

"True," agreed Astoria. "But what about you? What are you going to do? Are you coming with me?"

Daphne forced a thin smile. "Don't you worry about me." Then she gave her sister a hug, "You better get going."

Daphne then watched Astoria use the device. Before she powered up the device, Daphne stated, "Just one more thing. We need to exchange wands."

"Why?" asked Astoria.

"Because I need your wand to make things look proper here, or proper compared to the history I remember. And you don't want to be found with the same wand in the past as your younger self is using."

Astoria reluctantly agreed to change wands. Then she properly set up the device and then disappeared through the portal, taking the device with her, just as Daphne had done earlier.

Daphne wiped a tear from her cheek, realising that she had saved her sister, at least for now. Then she used her wand, Astoria's wand, to transform her clothes to look like what her sister had been wearing.

"This is the stupidest thing you've ever done, Daphne Isabella Greengrass," she said to herself.

She then changed her hair to be the same shade as her sister's, then she made her way down the alley.

As Daphne turned the corner she saw several men step out from behind the next building and they made their way towards her. She had her wand in her hand, prepared to use it, but not sure how this would all play out. Before she could plan her next move, she heard someone say "Stupefy," but the voice came from behind her. She fell to the ground and dropped her wand.

The group of men came running up to her. One of them saw the wand, picked it up, snapped it in two and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin.

Then the men started to kick at her body, leaving bruises in various places. Then one of them cast the killing curse at her immobile body.

A wizard who had also left the ministry party had heard the commotion and came running to investigate. Arriving at the scene he recognised the woman lying in the street as being Astoria Malfoy, the socialite who had just recently left the ministry ball, and then he called for Aurors to come help.

* * *

12.9

* * *

 **1995, March**

Professor Moody was becoming more agitated. Or rather, Barty Crouch Junior was becoming more agitated with the growing evidence that the wizarding population was becoming more critical of the entire pure-blood elitism that had ruled the magical world in Britain for so long. And it was not hard for him to determine the source of this changing view, as the current Hogwarts professor for the History of Magic was frequently publishing various articles in magical newspapers around England and all of Europe, pointing out the fallacies of the notion of pure-blood supremacy.

The faux Moody managed to get away from the castle and made his way to Little Hangleton where he met up with Selwyn and the childlike form that was his master, the Lord Voldemort.

"What brings you here, my loyal servant?" asked the small and frail appearing body with a hiss. "Is there a problem with the tournament?"

"No, my lord, no," replied Barty Junior as he knelt down in front of the thing that had once been the most feared wizard in all of England of not Europe. "Everything is going as planned, Harry Potter is currently leading in the tournament, and should be able to reach the Triwizard cup before anyone else."

"Then why did you dare to leave the confines of the school, where you disguise is safe?" pried Voldemort.

"I am growing more concerned about the affect that a certain professor is having on the whole of magical society," explained Barty. "The history of magic professor, he is spreading lies about muggleborns and half bloods being as potentially powerful magically as the pure-bloods, and claiming they have a right to be equal members of our society. And people are actually believing him."

The grotesque form squirmed a little next to Selwyn, then he hissed louder. "And what would you have me do about this problem? Surely, once I have regained my body, I can address this foolishness quickly, but that is not ready to happen."

"This professor, this foreigner, he is from Australia," continued Barty, "and as a professor at Hogwarts it would be very difficult to get to him and hurt him, very difficult indeed."

"Then what do you suggest we do? You must have a plan, unless you want me to instruct Selwyn here, and Nagini, to make an example of you," stated Voldemort.

Nagini, who was coiled up underneath the sofa that her master was laying on, let out a loud hiss. "No, my precious Nagini, you do not get to eat him, yet," added Voldemort.

"We can hurt him," stated the fake Auror turned professor. "He has a friend, a special friend, who works in Hogsmeade."

The smile that formed on the face of the small person once known as Tom Riddle was disturbing at best. "See to it, then," he stated with a horrifying laugh. "And include a warning to the man."

* * *

 **AN: My apologies for another long wait for the next chapter. This one turned out to be a little longer and more involved than I initially envisioned (nearly 15,000 words!), but that's what happens sometimes when one fleshes out details into the outline of the story. And the chapter title is a little misleading, seeing as that we have not completed the 4th year yet for Harry and Draco and Daphne, et. al. But the story should have all the major plot lines resolved within the next few chapters (or at least I expect so).**

 **Thanks again for the reviews, the feedback, the favourites, the follows and the messages about this story.**

 **I will probably work on completing Life During Wartime (the story I started for NaNoWriMo in November 2016) as my next project.**

 **Happy New Year 2017 to everyone...**


	13. Chapter 13 - The Third Task

C13 The Third Task

* * *

13.1

* * *

 **April 1995**

Selwyn had taken the words of his master to heart, and managed to get a message out to his former comrades in arms, the latent Death Eaters. He sent a simple note to those who had avoided Azkaban after the fall of their master in 1981, the ones who made up the group who made the attack at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Our world is changing, there are those who actually question the authority of those of use with pure magical blood. An example must be set. This will be done on St. George's Day, we will unleash the dragon of pure-blood wrath. Be sure to participate in the festivities as we make an example of those who wish to defy us."

 _Sunday, April 23_

The sun had come out after the day of torrential rain and sudden cold weather the day before. It was not a Hogsmeade weekend, so there was not supposed to be any students from the nearby school of magic when the hooded figures arrived. Mostly they attacked smaller businesses off of the main road, specifically targeting shops that were owned by half bloods or muggle-born wizards and witches. The group moved carefully towards main street and were soon confronted by a group of Hogsmeade residents as well as several faculty members from Hogwarts who prepared to face them down. One of the masked wizards waved his wand in a wide arc and several blasts of flames shot out. The ensuing chaos of several buildings erupting in flames forced the group that was preparing to corner the rioting wizards to abandon their planned attack and work to save the buildings. A few of the witches in their group worked to protect those who were working on putting out the flames from further attacks.

A dark mist was created over the group of rescuers, cast by one of the Death Eaters on one side. Once the darkness enveloped the group several spells were cast haphazardly into the midst of the shrouded crowds — flashes of green and red and yellow briefly lit up parts of the blackness.

The group of attackers disappeared with the use of port keys just as Aurors started to arrive in the area. The dark cloud cleared and two individuals in grey robes came forward and inspected the fallen individuals. Several bodies lay motionless in the street. One of the grey clad individuals, who most people assumed were Unspeakables, pointed at one of the bodies.

"There, do you see that? She was marked with a spell that attracted the various spells to hit her body," came the man's voice, his face obscured by the shadows of the hood.

The other Unspeakable in a grey robe nodded, then turned to one of the professors who was coming forward. "Make sure the Aurors see this spell," commanded the female's voice.

Filius Flitwick nodded in reply, but before he could ask the witch anything more, the two Unspeakables disappeared without a sound.

Red robed Aurors then arrived in the area, and Filius quickly explained to them about what the two grey robed magicals said before they disappeared.

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded at the diminutive professor then turned to his colleagues. "Who notified the Unspeakables of this attack?"

"Who knows?" replied one of the other Aurors. "They always seem to get themselves involved in unusual things, and no one knows how or why. Why don't you ask them why they were here?"

The other Aurors laughed at the question, and Kingsley frowned. "Not funny, we all know why they're called Unspeakables." Then he looked at the woman who lay motionless in the street and noted that it was Madam Rosmerta.

The Aurors inspected the spell that Filius was notified about, as AC O'Malley came up from behind them. Kingsley noted the history of magic professor and stepped forward to speak with him.

"Sir, I am sorry to inform you…"

Kingsley was cut off by AC, "Thank you, Shacklebolt, but I can see clearly enough what is before me.

"There is something more you should know," continued the tall Auror, "apparently she was marked with a spell that allowed the Death Eaters who made this attack so that their spells would seek her out specifically."

AC stood still and stoic, then he quietly asked the Aurors, "And how do we know that this was the work of Death Eaters?"

"The reports of the robes and masks they wore indicates that is who made this attack," stated Kingsley. "Unless, of course, there is a group of terrorists trying to frame the Death Eaters."

"No, no, that's clear enough," muttered AC. "So, they specifically targeted her," he added, steeling his face and suppressing any outward emotional reaction.

"So it would seem," added the Auror. "It was not uncommon knowledge that you and Madam Rosmerta were a couple, or at least it appeared that way to many. As almost everyone liked her, I would have to assume that this action was meant as a way to get at you."

AC raised an eyebrow, "And why would you say that?"

"It's obvious to everyone, I think, sir," explained Shacklebolt, "that your series of lectures, your teaching the students, your message is clear, blood-purity is nothing. Well, other than family recognition and such, but when it comes to magic, everyone should be judged on their skill, not on their birthright or lack there of. You are changing our world, for the better in many people's eyes, but not in the view of the Death Eaters and their supporters. You, sir, have obviously been making enemies."

AC nodded and frowned at the same time as he stared at the motionless body of Madam Rosmerta. "I never meant for anyone to get hurt by being associated with me," he said softly.

By this time Flitwick, McGonagall and Sprout had all gathered around him, as well as many of the Hogsmeade villagers.

"Do you need anything?" asked the transfiguration professor.

AC took a deep breath as he knelt down beside Rosmerta and caressed her cheek, "Just a moment or two and then I think I would like some time alone in me quarters."

* * *

13.2

* * *

Later that afternoon, Sirius had arrived at the castle and tracked down his benefactor. After letting himself into O'Malley's room he sat down across from him, noticing that the open bottle of fire whiskey in front of AC had not been emptied at all.

"Good move there, my friend," began Sirius, his voice distracting AC from his inner thoughts. "You're sober, which means today would be as good a time as any as to go deal with that gravesite."

AC looked up, startled from his contemplation. "You know, I think you have a point there." Then as he was standing up he added, "Unless of course they are all rallying around their leader in their victory."

Sirius considered the comment from O'Malley, then he countered, "That would be unlikely if they do not realise that Riddle is really back. Whomever is working with him, and with Crouch, thats you probably set up today's attack. Which means that it would be highly unlikely anyone would be near Little Hangleton. Besides, too many of his followers might start to wonder why he is at some muggle mansion. Striking now makes sense. Riddle would not expect any retaliation, not there."

The two then agreed to set out to the graveyard. They easily found a large obelisk marked with the name, Tom Riddle, son of Thomas and Mary Riddle.

"Well, this must be the place," commented Sirius.

"Now, we need to find a grave, one that belongs to someone who is least likely to be related to the Riddles," added AC.

The two began to search the graveyard, and finally found a grave stone marked with the name William Peterson. It was a small marker, with very other little information on the stone other than the dates March 1919 - September 1943.

"Probably died in the war," commented Sirius.

AC agreed, and then they proceeded to switch the remains from the two graves after casting muggle replying charms around the graveyard as well as notice my not charms, so that their work would not be interrupted.

Within a couple of hours they had managed to finish their work, and return the ground in front of the obelisk marking Tom Riddle senior's grave to a normal appearance. It was dusk by now and the two wizards removed the various protection charms from around the graveyard and then separated back to Hogsmeade.

That evening they finished off the bottle of fire whiskey that had earlier been left untouched in AC's office.

* * *

13.3

* * *

Severus Snape returned to the potion shop at the edge of Diagon Alley once again. The curse was still spreading up the headmaster's arm, and the potions that he had obtained from the proprietor here were not fairing much better than his own.

As he stepped into the shop, there was a hanging bell that jingled, letting whomever was in the building know that there was a customer. Astrea Faucons, the proprietor of Faucons' Potions Extraordinaire, stepped forth from behind a curtain and greeted her new customer.

"Ah, Professor Snape, is it? What brings you back here?" she asked as she clearly recognised the man who had visited her shop a couple of times in the preceding months.

Snape did not waste time for pleasantries. "The potion that you prepared for me, it is not helping, the curse is advancing up my acquaintance's arm."

The woman had light brown hair, and bright blue-green eyes, her complexion was fair, and she had an air of sophistication about her as she strode across the room. "You expect me to give you a cure for a patient I have never met, for a curse you are not even completely sure what took place, and still you look for perfection," she observed.

"I always expect perfection," Snape stated simply.

The potions mistress hissed. "You're an ass to expect perfection when you do nothing more than give an outline of what is involved. It's as though you think you can teach someone how to brew a potion by simply writing instructions on a chalkboard."

Snape bristled at the comment, but said nothing at first. The silence in the shop hung heavily about them, before he finally added, "Very well, I will see about bringing the one who is afflicted with the afore mentioned curse to your shop, if that will aid in the precision of your brewing techniques."

"I would think that it would undoubtedly make for an easier opportunity to prepare a more beneficial concoction," she stated.

Less than an hour later, Snape returned with Albus Dumbledore to meet with the potions mistress.

Once again, upon the ringing of the bells, Astrea Faucons stepped out from behind the curtain.

Dumbledore stared at the woman who had a teal scarf wrapped around her head, and light blue coloured robes that were either made of acromantula silk or some other expensive fabric. The headmaster smiled at the young woman, who appeared to be in her thirties or so, however he did not recognise her as one of his former students. He was curious as to who this mysterious potion mistress was as he assumed she must be either using some sort of disguise or she must be from some other country. In his arrogance, Dumbledore attempted to use legilimency on her.

As soon as he slightly brushed her memories, he was quickly and forcibly pushed out f her mind.

Dumbledore simply raised an eyebrow. "So, you're French," he stated after his not so subtle mental attack was not only discovered by rapidly repelled.

"You are rude and you are performing illegal mind magics," hissed Astrea.

"I beg your pardon," replied the elderly wizard with a twinkle in his eye, "I was just trying to ascertain the background of the person I am relying on to help me with my little problem."

Her tone remained icy, "This person that you _were_ relying on to help you with a situation that you found yourself in is not interested in your pathetic excuses. It is of no consequence to me what happens to you, sir, regardless of how important you may think that you are. You may leave, or should I call the Aurors?"

Snape was watching the interaction and he was surprised by two things. First, that the headmaster had actually attempted legilimency on the woman; and second, that he had apparently been caught and rebuffed by her occlumency skills.

Dumbledore continued to smile as he spoke continued to attempt to appease her. "Again, I can only offer my apologies, but as you say, I _am_ responsible for my condition and I _do_ need the assistance of one who is skilled, and Severus, here, states that _you_ are the most skilled person in potion making. Coming from him, that is high praise indeed."

Astrea was still irritated, "Flattery does not change the situation."

"No, no, I am sure that it does not," agreed Albus. "But you speak English as one who has spoken it from birth, yet you defend your mind in French. A most curious combination, if I might say. You do not seem to be of French descent."

"My former husband, his family was originally of French origins," she stated simply. "I did some of my training there. It has proven to be a useful skill at times. Now, if you don't mind, I once again must ask you to leave."

Severus then interrupted the conversation. "Madam Faucons, if you would please forgive the most impolite intrusion of my colleague, but if you would at least review the nature of his curse, and even if you cannot create a superior potion, perhaps you would have some sort of advice for a direction in which I should proceed."

She bit her lip as she continued to glare at the headmaster. "Very well, I will at least look at this curse, and evaluate it for you. The cost will still be 100 galleons for the evaluation. Any further brewing will be at a cost of 200 galleons, all paid up front."

Severus looked to the headmaster, and Albus sighed and shrugged his shoulders, then nodded he would agree to make the payments.

"Now, sir, please show me the afflicted arm," said the potions mistress.

Dumbledore rolled back the sleeve of his robe, revealing the blackened form of his hand and forearm. There was no odour to the flesh that looked like it was charred from a severe burn.

"What has the healer at the school said about this?" asked Madam Faucons.

"She did recommend that I see a curse breaker and a healer at St. Mungo's," admitted Albus, "but I have been a little preoccupied with my various duties."

"Did she not even perform any diagnostics on the wound?" asked the surprised witch. She thought to herself that she always heard that Britain's preeminent school for magic's headmaster was a bit eccentric and secretive, but this was beyond what she would have imagined. She then pulled out her wand and waved it over the arm while casting a series of spells.

Then she looked up at Snape, "Did you determine any of the components of the curse? Or, more to the point, what exactly have you done to investigate the nature of this curse?"

"We examined the ring that was associated with the curse," replied Snape stiffly. "There was nothing that suggested what was included within the curse."

"Do you have any idea who manufactured the ring?" she asked, not expecting much of an answer.

Snape shifted uneasily and looked towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore sighed slightly before answering her, "The ring was crafted a long time ago, it is unclear who actually made the ring. The curse, however, was placed on it by the infamous wizard, Lord Voldemort."

Astrea did not flinch at the mention of the name by the headmaster. "Hence, the powerful nature of the curse linked to an apparently powerful ring." She then proceeded to re-examine the cursed arm. After a couple of minutes she started commenting on what she was discovering, "Interesting aspects of the curse have been woven together. A withering curse associated with basilisk venom which may have been imbued into the lining of the ring. The curse also has other components, including a permanence charm and another hex added to it that would essentially lead to a rapid and painful death if the cursed tissue was removed from the body."

"Thus essentially eliminating the option of amputation," stated Dumbledore as he acknowledged the seriousness of his predicament.

Madam Faucons then looked at Snape. "It would seem that the potions we have tried are lacking a key ingredient. If you could happen upon some phoenix tears, they are rather difficult to come by, that would make the potions for slowing down the curse more effective, but ultimately, it appears that there is nothing that can actually reverse the curse."

Snape frowned at the explanation from the potions mistress. Dumbledore's eyes brightened a little, "I do believe that we can manage to obtain some phoenix tears," he said hopefully.

Madam Faucons seemed unimpressed. "Adding them to either the potion that I had created or to the potion that your potions professor created would hep with slowing down the advance of the curse. But like I said before, I do not believe that there is a way to stop the curse."

Albus nodded in understanding. "Then perhaps we shall leave you be, as you have already provided me with a great service."

"That will be 300 galleons," she stated as the two men turned to leave the shop.

They looked at her quizzically. "You did agree to the payment prior to my making the potion. 300 galleons, payable now. If you would like, I can have the potion delivered to you at Hogwarts. It should be ready in about two days, after I receive the phoenix tears."

"But you stated that all we had to do was add the phoenix tears to the potion I had created," replied Snape.

"True, but I did not explain exactly how they would need to be added," she stated with a triumphant smirk. "Nor did I write the instructions on a blackboard for any dunderhead to figure out."

Snape's eyes narrowed at the obvious jab at his teaching methods. Albus placed the hand of his good arm on Severus' shoulder. "That's okay, we will have the phoenix tears delivered tomorrow, with the payment, 300 galleons."

Madam Faucons gave the very briefest of smiles as the two men then turned and left her shop.

Snape and Dumbledore went to the Leaky Cauldron to floo back to the headmaster's office.

"Who is that woman?" demanded Snape as he began to pace back and forth in front of the headmaster.

"I do not know, yet somehow, she seemed familiar to me," said Albus as he considered the possibilities of what her true identity could be. "Yet, I just can't place her, and the attempt at legilimency was surprisingly rebuffed quite well, and it would be foolhardy to think that it might ever work again."

* * *

13.4

* * *

 **September 1988**

Astoria Greengrass Malfoy found herself on the streets of London, wondering just what she was going to do to take care of herself. She had no useful identification, and in the time she thought she found herself in, she knew that even if she were to prove to the locals that she was a witch, her tale of time travelling would be scorned at best, lead her to be interrogated by the DMLE or even the Unspeakables at worst, and simple regarded as a muggle born witch with no proof of having passed her OWLs or her NEWTs. She took a deep breath and made her way towards the entrance to Diagon Alley. She easily passed through the Leaky Cauldron, and happened to look at a copy of the Daily Prophet. She saw the date was September 19, 1988. She noticed the headlines spoke of the current Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Cornelius Fudge, proudly boasting about the new regulations on cauldron bottom thickness and how it would save countless lives.

"Must have been a real slow day in news," she thought to herself as she tossed the paper aside. The newspaper landed on the floor and opened up to a page that had a photo of a middle aged wizard with a goatee, and the caption read "Dr. AC O'Malley to speak at the Ministry of Magic next spring." However, Astoria did not notice the picture or the article.

She made her way towards the entrance of Gringotts, then she stopped herself. "What in Merlin's name would I gain from heading in there?" she asked herself. She stood still for a moment and considered her options, and she felt the jewellery in her pocket that her sister had given to her before she jumped through time. Then her hand went to the pendant on her neck, and traced the letters made out of gold: A,G and M, then she let go of the pendant. Astoria closed her eyes momentarily while she considered her options. She knew that her father had connections within the muggle world for maintaining the family import business. And since she and Draco had been running the company for a number of years, she had learned her way around muggle London and knew some places she might be able to make some quick cash by hawking the jewellery.

Half an hour later, Astoria was making her way towards the train station. She already had her muggle money, and she made her way to the ticket station. She looked up at the board and did not see any signs for the Eurostar train service to Paris. She muttered curses under her breath as she realised that the Chunnel had not yet been completed and she would need to find another way to travel to France. To make her way there she would either need a fake muggle ID or she would need to use magic. Or she would need to do a little bit of both.

This delayed her another couple of hours before she was able to make her way to a train to bring her to the coast and then make plans for travelling via ferry over to France, and from there she would need to make her way to Paris, or more specifically the magical district in Paris.

By the following afternoon, she had managed to make her way to Rue de Magique and started investigating shops in the area where she might be able to find herself some work. She chose a potions shop to investigate first and was grateful that her parents had her and her sister learn French when they were young.

"Bonjour," she said to the man behind the counter, "Je cherche un emploi. Je suis bon à faire des potions."

The man blocked his eyes at the obvious foreigner and then he laughed. "If your potion making is as good as your French, you may leave right now. However, I am in need of some help here," he added with a smile, "and if you are so bold to just step into a shop and announce you are looking for work then we may be able to come to an arrangement."

Astoria was surprised by this reaction. She stuttered in her attempt to respond, then a woman came out from behind the man, with two young children held to her sides.

"Pardon my husband's brashness," she said with a heavy French accent. "But we could use some help here making ends meet," she continued, "and it is quite obvious that you are in need of some help yourself. You travelled from England, obviously, based on the way you speak, you're looking for work and you probably don't even have any papers."

Astoria blushed at the comments.

"Don't worry," stated the wife, "we have family and friends who lived in England, or at least some that used to. We understand the troubles there for those born to non-magical families. And we also know that just because the war ended seven years ago, that doesn't make things easier for someone like you, does it?"

Astoria was shocked and then she decided to just run with this opportunity. "I cannot believe my good fortune," she stated, breathing heavily.

The man smiled back at her, "We can discuss specifics later, but if you help me with the potions and even help my wife with the little ones, then we can offer you a place to stay, and even pay you."

Astoria was amazed with her good fortune. "My goal is to be able to establish myself well enough here to hopefully move back to England someday and open my own shop."

"An admiral goal it is," said the wife. "Oh, where are my manners, my name is Perenelle, named after my great grandmother."

* * *

13.5

* * *

 **May 1995**

Draco Malfoy was in a very unpleasant mood. Once again he had a run in with Theodore Nott, who still acted as though he was running things around Hogwarts itself, and not just trying to be the lead student in the House of Slytherin. He was meeting with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass as they were helping Harry prepare for the final task.

"That complete idiot," snapped Draco, "thinks that just because his great grandfather wrote the treatise on the Sacred Twenty-eight that somehow he is more entitled than anyone, and he keeps making comments about how he will end up with whichever witch he chooses."

"How can he think that is even a possibility?" questioned Hermione.

The door to their classroom was not closed tightly and it creaked open as Professor O'Malley stepped in. "Because there is an ancient tradition among pure-blooded families that includes betrothal contracts. Such a thing actually occurred in muggle families, a long time ago."

"But that is so barbaric," complained Hermione.

"Perhaps," acknowledged the professor of magical history, "however there are certain advantages to betrothal contracts. They enable families to form alliances which can strengthen both families, if they are negotiated properly."

"But that reduces a marriage to a simple political or financial matter," she countered.

"Not necessarily," corrected O'Malley. "While they could be used in a way that is both abusive and offensive, such as what it seems that young Mister Nott is implying with the comments he apparently made to Mister Malfoy, betrothal contracts were more often used to solidify the boundaries of a relationship where one already existed. Say if a young man and a young woman fancied each other, a betrothal contract would help protect the young witch from inappropriate and unwanted advances from a young wizard. It could also form the basis of financial security for a young couple. It all depends on how the two families, or heads of the two houses, work out the details within the agreement."

"But that still sounds so impersonal," added Daphne.

"And definitely unromantic," agreed Hermione.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," stated AC. "When I was younger, I was engaged to a young witch through a betrothal contract, which was what we both wanted and it was advantageous to us as well. However, that is not relevant at this time. Perhaps I will need to have a word with both Mister Nott, and Professor Snape, his head of house here at Hogwarts."

The others quietly nodded as their history of magic professor made it clear that he would follow up on the issue.

"How is your preparation for the final task going, Harry?" he asked.

"Well, we've just been reviewing potentially useful spells," answered Harry, "but that is kind of hard to do when he know so little about the next task."

"You should be getting some more information about it soon, I would expect," stated the professor before he excused himself from the room and their planned study session.

AC made his way back towards his quarters and shook his head in disgust. "Little Theo, still causing trouble for people," he muttered in disgust to himself. "Perhaps I need to have a chat with Lord Black."

The following weekend, Sirius and AC were meeting to discuss their plans for the upcoming task in the tournament and how they would plan their strategy at the graveyard. As they were about to begin their review of the information they had already gathered, AC brought up the topic of betrothals.

"You are the closest thing to a father figure that young Harry has," declared AC, "which is not saying much at all for poor Harry. Be that as it may, as you _are_ the current Lord Black and Harry _is_ heir to two houses, perhaps you should consider arranging a betrothal contract for the young man."

Sirius was starting to drink from a mug of ale he had before him, and nearly spit it out over the table as he heard the words from the history of magic professor. "But that's so barbaric, so pure-blooded, and so unfair to Harry," he spluttered.

AC laughed slightly at Sirius' reaction then he shook his head as he gave his reply to Sirius' bluster. "You're looking at this all wrong. By creating a betrothal contract for Harry, you actually accomplish several important things. First, you appease the old families by following a tradition that they all respect. This will endear you to them and give you more sway in the Wizengamot. It will show that you respect tradition and the old timers will not fear your attempts to change our society. Second, you can appease Harry and whatever young lady who would also be involved in said betrothal, by finding the right woman or girl that would make everything work out. If it's the youngster's idea to get together, then they don't view it as an arranged marriage."

"But betrothal contracts are used to bind a witch to a wizard," argued Sirius. "I've seen the wording used in some of them, particularly involving members of the House of Black. Not very pretty at times. Servitude, obedience, demands of fidelity for the woman but not necessarily for the man," continued Sirius, the disgust clear in his voice. "That would be so wrong to force on anyone."

"You don't have to include such clauses in a betrothal contract that you prepare," pointed out AC.

"But our society has a preconceived notion of what a Black Family betrothal contract looks like," stated Sirius.

"And that will precisely be to your advantage," countered AC. "Who sees the actual wording of a betrothal contract?"

Sirius blinked at the question, "Usually only the guardians or parents drafting the contract, then the involved parties once it is agreed upon for them."

"Precisely," said AC with a sly grin. "You present an honest and favourable, or even beneficial contract to some young woman's father, and they will be suspicious at first, but then they will consider that this must be some sort of boon to them from the House of Black. Well, they might wonder why you're being _too_ generous. You could always demand some sort of agreement, fidelity or alliance between the houses, make it look like you want this to have _some_ bite. They will think they are getting the better of you, and you will secure a proper relationship for Harry. The rest of our world will hear that there is a betrothal contract, assume you want to return the old ways, and respect your valuing tradition. And then they will fear you for being able to pull off such an agreement is this day and age."

Sirius rubbed his face with his hand as he considered the words from AC. After a couple of minutes of consideration he turned to face AC once again. "But what would Harry think? He might think that I betrayed him. He wouldn't get the chance to date and flirt and all of that, all of that guy stuff."

AC sneered at the man seated across form him. "Do you even know your godson? Harry Potter is a lot of things, but one thing he is not, and that is a clone of you. He is shy at times, brave at all times and self conscious around others, particularly girls, as he never really has gotten used to his fame. And he does not have the confidence in his magical skills that he should."

Sirius pulled at his hair in frustration momentarily and then shuddered slightly. "But a betrothal contract, for Harry? Who would I even talk to about this whole mess anyway?"

AC smiled slightly. "Harry does spend much of his time with the Greengrass girl."

Sirius sat up straight, surprised at the suggestion. "Cyrus and Isabella's daughter? Isn't she a Slytherin just like her dad?"

"Not all Slytherins bite, and her family actually has worked hard to stay neutral," commented AC. "Cygnus, Daphne's father, has done a good job strengthening the family import business. But I can tell you for certain that there are specific families who side with Riddle and agree with the pure blood elitism and are putting more and more pressure on Cyrus. Pressure to either declare his allegiance to their cause, or at least have one of his daughters married off to one of the Death Eater families. More precisely, the Notts have already approached the Greengrasses about such a proposal."

Sirius narrowed his eyes and inspected AC closely. "Is this about Harry or about the Greengrass family? Or is this about your feud with the Notts?"

AC shrugged his shoulders, "I would be lying if I didn't admit that it might be a little bit of all three." He paused a moment before he continued. "An alliance with the Blacks would protect Cyrus Greengrass and his daughters. From what I have seen, I think that Harry and Daphne would be a good couple."

Sirius rubbed his chin and pulled at his goatee. "I do recall that Isabella was quite striking. Their daughter didn't inherit her father's looks, did she?"

"You _did_ meet Daphne after Harry rescued her from the lake," AC reminded Sirius.

"That's who we're talking about? The way you were all serious about this I thought," his voice trailed off and then AC interrupted him.

"No, you're Sirius, I'm from the future," proudly stated with a smirk.

"You're a prat," replied Sirius with a smile. A minute later he then stated, "So I better send an owl off to Cyrus Greengrass."

"And maybe speak with Harry before you actually meet with Lord Greengrass," added AC. "You don't need to catch him totally of guard with this."

 **Saturday, May 13**

AC was seated at a table in the Leaky Cauldron, having a sip from his pint of ale. A tall man with pale skin and nearly white hair strode into the tavern and looked around, quickly spotting the history of magic professor seated in the corner booth. He slowly but deliberately made his way to the booth. AC stood up and welcomed Lucius Malfoy and thanked him for agreeing to meet with him. Then he subtly cast privacy charms around the booth, an action that resulted in a slight nod from Lord Malfoy.

"You requested this meeting," began Lucius, "but you asserted that my son's studies are not the issue. So I am curious, just what is it that is so important that you meet with me, here, behind privacy charms. Are you having trouble with certain families who don't approve of your teaching methods?"

"No, no, not at all," smiled AC, "I am more than able to handle the complaints from a few blood supremacists who don't like having a slight tweak to their egos and their ideology. Not to mention a loss of respect in the realm of public opinion."

Lucius tilted his nose slightly and sniffed, "Present company may not approve of your methods or your tone either."

"But you don't disapprove of me so much that you completely avoided meeting with me," observed AC. "You are here, after all."

"Curiosity, Professor O'Malley," remarked the tall blonde man.

"Fine, fine, I will get to the point," stated O'Malley. "I have observed your son, Draco, for some time. He has shown himself over the past few years to be a disciplined student and quite skilled in magic."

"Of course," sneered Lucius, "I would expect nothing less."

"And you have been working on plans for a betrothal contract for your son, I do believe is the rumour which I have heard," added the professor.

Lucius stiffened at the words. "I suppose that with all of your modern thinking and your desire to do away with tradition you expect me to listen to reason and abandon such a time tested procedure to secure the future of my family and my line."

"Oh, no, you have me all wrong," stated AC. "I do understand the value of tradition, it is just that there is a difference between tradition and bigotry based on unfounded notions of prejudice."

Lucius leaned back away from AC and narrowed his eyes, surprised to hear such a response from the man who had been making a name for himself by single handedly teaching all of the magical world that there is no real value to blood purity. "I seem to be missing your point then," he stated sharply.

AC smiled slightly. "Total upheaval of the society is not my goal," he added calmly. "Eliminating discrimination based on family background is my goal. The traditions are important to our survival as a community. But those traditions need to be taught to those who are initially outsiders."

"By outsiders you mean muggle born," snapped Lucius, his disdain for them evident in his tone. "They want to destroy our society. They want to corrupt it with their muggle world views."

"Can you blame them? They are quickly taught that they are not even good enough to be second class citizens in this world," argued AC. "They are not given explanations for our traditions, just told that they are inferior and that we have no place for them in this society. Their magic is not weaker nor is it inferior, their heritage is simply different. They deserve positions within the ministry, within our society. Of course they want to change this society that continually treats them as outsiders."

Lucius was speechless for a moment. Then AC continued, "But I didn't come here to discuss politics with you. I sincerely wanted to discuss other traditions, a specific tradition, betrothals. It seems to me, that you have been trying to direct your son, Draco, to a relationship with one Pansy Parkinson."

"What do you know of my son and my plans?" questioned Lucius, irritation still evident in his voice.

AC shook his head slightly. "I am a professor, this is my fourth year of teaching all of the students the history of magic at Hogwarts. I can see how the young people interact, and trying to force a relationship with Miss Parkinson would be disastrous for your son."

Lucius' lips thinned and his eyes narrowed again. "Would you have me arrange a marriage between my son and that mud blood he is so often seen with? I do have my sources and I am quite aware of who he chooses to spend his time with, inspire of my clear objections."

"Draco and Hermione Granger? You've got to be kidding," AC replied with a slight laugh. "Those two would end up killing each other long before they learned to live together in peace and harmony and raise a family."

"Then perhaps you mean that Greengrass girl who also is in that little clique?"

"Daphne Greengrass is many things, smart, beautiful, a pure-blood and a Slytherin, but I do not think she is the right match for your son," AC countered. He continued before Lucius made another guess, "However, the younger Greengrass daughter, has much potential. By arranging a betrothal with her, Draco would not have to worry about the Greengrass family name, as that would still be the responsibility of the oldest daughter to try and create a way to carry on the family name."

Lucius snorted at the comment, then he became curious. "But what advantage would there be to the Malfoy family? Why would I even consider this? Cyrus would have no political advantage to arrange a contract for his younger daughter."

"First, remember that they are a pure-blood family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, even," AC stated. "I am also aware that there are current negotiations with Cyrus, or will be shortly, for a contract involving the older daughter, Daphne. She may be betrothed to a family line whose heritage is considered richer than yours."

"The Notts only think they have a better family heritage because Cantankerous Nott authored the book on the history of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," protested Lucius, his face turning a little red at the thought.

"No, no, by no means did I ever imply that the Notts have any sort of heritage to compete with the Malfoy line," AC quickly explained. "However, even you cannot argue with the stature of the Black family in our world, you even married a Black. Negotiating a contract between house Malfoy and House Greengrass after the contract between House Black and House Greengrass is announced, would imply an alliance between those houses, all three of them."

"I already have an alliance with the House of Black, as you have pointed out, my wife IS a Black," argued Lucius once more.

"But the power of House Black lies with the Lord Black, not with your wife," corrected AC.

"But Sirius has no heir," Lucius continued to argue.

"Sirius Black _does_ have an heir," corrected AC, "his godson, Harry Potter, is his heir."

Lucius visibly quivered at the mention of the name of the young wizard.

AC continued, "Whether you like it or not, things are changing in our world. Now, remember, you don't need to act on this now, not at all. But if events turn out a certain way down the road, it may help save your family and your family's name."

"Are you threatening me?" asked a now confused and concerned Lord Malfoy.

"Not at all, merely educating you," replied AC.

"And what do you gain out of this?" questioned Lucius.

"The knowledge that I may have actually helped to stabilise the magical world and helped prevent it from tearing itself apart," AC said simply. Then he stood up and started to leave the room. As his hand was on the door he added, "You can be a helpful part of this brave new magical world, or you can let it pass you by. Your previous methods of maintaining power and influence will soon be seen as antiquated and unwelcome. Or at least, I predict that they will be."

"What is your real motivation behind this?" called out Lucius.

AC smiled briefly before adding, "I actually like your son, Draco, and I do wish the best for him, in spite of how you have tried to raise him up." With that AC stepped out of the door.

AC then made his way quickly out of the Leaky Cauldron and started heading down Diagon Alley. He was hoping to put some distance between himself and his father to avoid any further emotional reaction to the encounter. However, he was not watching where he was heading when he bumped into a woman who was making her way up the alley. He stopped and offered to help her up. The witch with the light brown hair begrudgingly accepted his assistance.

"My apologies, ma'am," he said sincerely. "Obviously I was not watching where I was going," he added while staring at her bright blue-green eyes.

"Apparently not," replied the witch. "I was not expecting to be run over on my way back to my shop," she added, glancing over to the store front to Faucons' Potions Extraordinaire.

Then she let go of the hand he had used to help her up and continued on her way to her store. AC watched her walk away, feeling as though she was somehow very familiar.

* * *

13.6

* * *

 **The Third Task**

 **June 24, 1995**

Harry Potter entered the maze first. The task, just like in AC's original time line, was a maze with various obstacles with the Triwizard Cup at the centre of the maze. Harry and Cedric ended up near the centre of the maze once again, with the cup standing before them after they had dealt with the imperiused Viktor Krum and send up sparks for Fleur Delacour to be rescued.

The two Hogwarts students made their way to the clearing where the trophy was waiting for them.

"We grab it together, a Hogwarts victory!" exclaimed Harry.

But then Cedric stepped back, away from the pedestal. "You worked for it, you didn't even want to participate in this tournament, but you did and you were fair. I wouldn't even have made it this far if you didn't help me. Krum would have taken me out of the competition, or worse." Cedric then shot up red sparks as he told Harry to go and grab the cup as he limped backwards away from where Harry was standing. "Go on, take the cup, it's yours," he added.

Harry smiled awkwardly. "You don't have to do this," he called back.

"Just take it, Harry," said Cedric as he shook his head. "I already gave up just now, take it, you're the Triwizard champion!"

Harry then reached out and took the cup with his right hand, and felt the tug of a port-key from behind his navel and the maze and Cedric spun away from his vision.

Harry was startled to find himself standing in a graveyard. He immediately became suspicious, but before he could reach for his wand he barely had time to notice the red flash of the stunning spell sent his way. The next thing that Harry knew was that he tied, quite uncomfortably at that, to a large stone. Looking around he quickly discerned that he was tied to a gravestone.

A tall man with greying hair stepped forward and glared at Harry.

"So, the young brat is awake. Now we can begin in earnest," stated the wizard.

"Selwyn, get a move on with the ritual," called out a voice that came from a small figure that seemed to be wrapped in a towel to one side.

Selwyn acknowledged the command, "Very well, my Lord, I will begin."

He then cast a spell that caused a long bone to erupt from the ground at Harry's feet. Selwyn then dropped the bone into the nearby large cauldron. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son."

Then he took a large knife from out of his robes, and he sliced off his own hand, letting it fall into the cauldron. "Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master." The cauldron started to bubble even more fervently.

He then wrapped a white bandage around his wrist to slow down the blood flow. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." He then walked over to where Harry was still bound to the grave stone, then sliced his arm and allowed some of the blood to collect on the edge of the knife blade. He walked slowly back to the cauldron and stirred the roiling liquid with the knife so that the blood from Harry's arm would mix in to the potion.

"Hurry, you fool, you're taking to long," called out the voice from amidst the large towel.

"We're almost done, my Lord," called back Selwyn who was making his way to the small bundle. With pain, he managed to pick up the small and deformed body, grasping it with his right hand and balancing it with the stump on his left arm, and then he carried it over to the cauldron.

"You could have used a levitation charm," chastised the eerie voice from within the bundle.

Harry was trying to figure out everything that was going on, and he remained more than a little confused, and now he was worried about the blood loss from his arm.

Selwyn finally managed to drop the bundle, towel and all, into the cauldron. He stepped back as the liquid began to boil even more vigorously. A moment later a body stood up within the cauldron.

The Lord Voldemort arose from the vat, stepped out onto the ground, only to stumble, as his body was obviously weak and his skin was cracking.

Standing back up slowly, and in pain, Voldemort called out to Selwyn, "What did you do?" He screamed in rage and then called out to his snake. "Nagini! Come forth and feast on this fool in front of me!"

There was a rustling sound from behind the trees to Voldemort's left, as well as another sound of footsteps coming from his right. Nagini emerged from behind the trees and came out into the open just as AC and Sirius stepped out from the opposite side.

Voldemort was growing more furious. He reached out and pulled Selwyn towards him, grabbed his wand and pressed it onto the Dark Mark on Selwyn's injured wrist. "My followers will all be here shortly!"

Sirius cast the killing curse directly at Nagini as the large snake was making its way towards them. Meanwhile, AC was making a move to try and free Harry from the gravestone.

A black mist arose from the now dead body of the giant snake, and Voldemort called out in anger once again. "You shall die for your arrogance!"

With that a bolt of green light leapt forth from his wand as he shouted out "Avada Kedavra!"

Sirius did not suspect such a quick and decisive response from the weakened Dark Wizard, and stood immobilised in shock as the green beam raced towards him. There was a blinding flash just as the curse hit him and he collapsed to the ground.

Harry cries out, "NO!" as he sees his godfather fall to the ground.

AC had just managed to finish releasing Harry as they heard the popping sounds of various bodies arriving via apparation at the graveyard. The Death Eaters had come in response to their master's call.

Two Unspeakables in grey robes then stepped out and began to attack the newly arrived Death Eaters. Spell fire of various colours erupted from both sides.

At this time, Voldemort slowly moved towards AC and Harry and cast a curse at Harry. The bolt of light hits Harry in his chest and he drops to the ground.

As Voldemort is about to boast in triumph at finally vanquishing his young foe, he felt his body giving out and he collapsed to his knees. He looks up to see another black mist, this one escaping from Harry's scar on his forehead.

"What vile deed have you committed?" he calls out to AC O'Malley, "I shall not be defeated by a mere history professor!"

AC was kneeling near the fallen Harry and turned to Voldemort. Slowly he stood up and watched as Voldemort became too weak to even hold his wand.

"You must be missing something," stated AC.

Voldemort screamed in pain and then he looked up at AC. "What would I be missing, besides having your head hanging from my wall?"

"Perhaps these are what you are missing," he replied, as he pulled out a bag and dumped the now inert objects that used to be Horcruxes. "I think that is all of them. Except you."

"No! This can't be!" Voldemort was running out of strength. "The prophecy! I killed Potter! I should be the winner! I can't die! I am immortal!"

"I don't think so," called out one of the Unspeakables who then cast a red curse at Voldemort.

Voldemort was knocked backwards from the impact of the spell, and blood was then dripping from his nose and his mouth. His skin starting to fall off of his face and arms and hands.

Spitting blood as he spoke, he called out to the Unspeakable who had castle spell. "How can this be? And who the hell are you?"

"You'll never know," came the snide response. "Besides, you're about to experience something new, your own death," snapped the man shrouded in Grey.

The other Unspeakable was at AC's side and assisted him with the fallen Harry who was starting to blink his eyes.

"He'll be fine in a moment," reassured the other Unspeakable.

AC looked towards the hidden face. "I know you, I know that voice."

"Shhh, don't ask anything more, don't say anything more," admonished the Unspeakable. "Besides, we need to be leaving." The Unspeakable then stood up and moved towards their partner.

Then Voldemort screamed out in agony as his body erupted into flames.

AC helped Harry sit up and then stood up to face the two Unspeakables. He noticed that the other Death Eaters have been subdued, and he further noticed that his father had not arrived with the others when they were summoned. AC then turned to look over at the fallen Sirius.

Turning back to theUnspeakables, he questioned them, "But, Black, did he have to die? If you were here, could you not have saved him?"

The two Unspeakables shook their heads. "We were never here," they said in unison.

Then there was a slight flash and they silently disappeared.

AC exclaimed various words in frustration. He looked to Harry, who was obviously recovering. Then he went to check on Sirius, who surprisingly was starting to move as well.

The former Auror muttered hoarsely, "What the bloody hell hit me?"

AC was still surprised with hearing this, and his only reply was also a question, "The killing curse?"

Sirius was rubbing his face and then his arms and his back. "I saw that, but I couldn't move, and then there was this bright flash. I felt like something had enveloped me and then there was this blast right as the green curse hit me. Then everything went black."

AC just nodded as he listened to Sirius explain what he had experienced. "There were these two Unspeakables who stepped out and took care of the Death Eaters. I think one of them cast a spell at you that somehow absorbed the killing curse."

Sirius was now rubbing his back and his legs. "Where are they now?"

AC snorted at the question. "They're Unspeakables, they left without explaining anything."

Sirius looked at everything around them, seeing the various bodies laying still. Then there was the popping sound of Aurors arriving via apparation. Kingsley and Robards stepped forward, as Robards called out orders to the others to secure the fallen wizards and witches.

AC was shocked to see them. "How did you know to come, to come here, and to come now?"

Robards shrugged his shoulders, "A couple of Unspeakables showed up and told us where to go."

AC rolled his eyes at the obvious answer. "Did you recognise who they were?"

Kingsley had stepped up to the small group as he was checking on how Harry was doing. He looked up at AC as he replied, "They're Unspeakables, and they're out in public. No one knows who they are."

Robards then looked between AC and Sirius, then questioned them both. "So what the bloody hell happened here anyway? Why are all these witches and wizards here? And why is Harry Potter here?"

AC smiled as he started to reply, "A funny story there is to tell about all of this. By the way, that charred and bloody splatter over there," he said as he pointed to the remains of what had been Voldemort, "that was the resurrected body of the Dark Lord, Voldemort."

The Aurors all flinched at the sound of his name.

AC continued and pointed to Selwyn who was bound and was still bleeding slowly from the stump on his left arm, "And that man over there, Selwyn, can fill you in on much of the details of all that happened."

Sirius stood up slowly, and added, "I think we need to get Harry, here back to school."

"And while you're at it," AC said to the Aurors, "head back to Hogwarts, and arrest the Death Eater who is impersonating Moody."

* * *

 **AN: Finally the next chapter. Hopefully many questions are answered, but I do believe that there are more that may be needing answers.**

 **Thanks for the many reviews, favorites, etc.**

 **There will be one more chapter to wrap this all up...**

 **AN2: I have made several fixes to typos found by diligent readers (a1993 and Infinity Mask)**


	14. Chapter 14 - Epilogue

**AN: Thanks again for the reviews, the favs, the following, etc... This story now comes to an end with this final chapter. Hopefully I have wrapped up all of the loose ends from the previous chapters. Again, this was based on a novel idea I came up with many months ago (as with most of my stories I try to take a unique perspective to some aspect of the Harry Potter world). It was a difficult story at time with the time travel issues and trying to use a logical approach to a non-logical fictional concept. Hopefully you have all enjoyed this story (a short one in comparison to several of the stories which I have already published).**

* * *

C14 Epilogue

* * *

25 June 1995

Headlines in the Daily Prophet

 **Harry Potter wins Triwizard Tournament!**

The Boy Who Lived is now the Boy Who Triumphed. 14 year old Harry Potter, who's name was mysteriously entered into the Triwizard Tournament has come out victorious. While the facts around the actual events in the third and final task are still being investigated, what we do know is that the last two remaining champions in the competition were Hogwarts' own Cedric Diggory and the ever astounding Harry Potter. Apparently young Mister Diggory had been injured during his attempt to navigate the maze, and he even admits that he only made it as far as he did in the competition due to help from his young competitor. Mister Potter, who is only a Fourth Year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, overcame a dragon in the first task, rescued not one, but two hostages in the second task, and outlasted three 17 year old students in the final task.

 _For more on the tournament, turn to page 3!_

 _For more on the young Harry Potter, turn to page 9!_

 **He Who Must Be Named, Returns and is Defeated Again!**

Yes, you read that correctly. This has been confirmed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Head Auror, Gawain Robards, attested to the findings in an obscure graveyard in Little Hangleton. At the end of the Triwizard Tournament, the new champion, Harry Potter was apparently whisked away to this mysterious graveyard. While the details surrounding his abduction are still being discerned, what we have learned is chilling at first, but reassuring in the end.

The Triwizard cup had apparently been turned into a port-key by one of the Dark Lord's followers who was attempting to return him to his bodily form. This unknown Death Eater was working in concert with Lord Selwyn, who was previously tried as a Death Eater in 1981 after the original defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named by the then infant Harry Potter on Halloween night.

However, the ritual to bring back the Dark Lord was interrupted as Harry Potter's guardian, Lord Sirius Black, and one of the professors at Hogwarts, Dr. AC O'Malley, were suspicious of interference in the tournament and managed to track the young champion to the scene of the ritual. The two brave men then saved young Harry from a sure death at the hands of the newly incarnated dark wizard. However, before he was subdued, the Dark Lord managed to summon many of his supporters to come to his side. The Aurors also arrived on the scene and managed to capture or incapacitate the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord, himself, was killed by two Unspeakables who had arrived at the scene. The Department of Mysteries could not be reached for comment on this incident.

Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE, made the public statement last night at an impromptu new conference to let everyone in magical Britain know that we are all safe from the scourge that was He Who Must Not Be Named and his attempt to return to power.

 _For more on the battle with the Death Eaters, see page 5!_

 _For more on the DMLE and the Aurors, see page 11!_

 _For more on Sirius Black, see page 4!_

 _For more on Dr. AC O'Malley, see page 12!_

 **Death Eaters Rounded Up After Botched Ritual**

A number of wizards who had been exonerated for the work with He Who Must Not Be Named after his defeat in 1981 were found to have gathered for his support yesterday evening. They no longer have the excuse of being placed under the imperius curse to defend their behaviour. Those who were arrested included Vincent Crabbe, Sr., Erich Avery Sr, Erich Avery Jr, Walden Macnair, Jeremiah Jugson, Albert Runcorn, Theodious Yaxley, George Goyle, Silas Selwyn, and Thorfinn Rowle. Several of those individuals had used the defence of previously being imperiused to serve the Dark Lord. There were several casualties during the fighting between the gathered Death Eaters and the Aurors who arrived to rescue the young Harry Potter; most notably Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Bartholomew Gibbon, Alfonse Nott, and Samuel Rosier, Sr were among those who did not survive their encounters with the Aurors.

 _For more on the battle with the Death Eaters, see page 2!_

Lucius Malfoy tossed his copy of the Daily Prophet on the table in front of him and went back to eating his breakfast. His wife raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at his actions.

"Something unsettling in the news today?" she asked.

"The fools were unable to see that their path was one of foolishness," he stated bitterly. Then he looked up at his wife and smiled slightly. "At least I had the foresight to avoid the call last night, despite the pain that it caused."

Narcissa smiled slightly. "You said that the young professor, Dr. O'Malley, had indicated that things would be changing, and you actually listened to that man. Frankly, Lucius, I am a little surprised by your actions of late."

Lucius leaned back in his chair and he grasped his cane with his left hand. "You know how I take advantage of the special family ward in the head of this cane that warns me of whom I can trust when I meat with them and whom I cannot trust. The handle always cooled slightly when I spoke with him, indicating that he was trustworthy. As opposed to anytime I met with any of the men who were arrested last night, or even with Fudge himself, as the handle would warm to my touch, telling me that they were not to be trusted."

Narcissa nodded in response to her husband's words.

Then Lucius continued, "He did, however, recommend that I contact the Greengrass family about a potential betrothal contract between their youngest daughter and our Draco."

"You hadn't mentioned that before," remarked Narcissa. "The younger daughter? Don't they have a daughter Draco's age?"

Lucius nodded, "Yes, but apparently there is already a contract being negotiated for her."

Narcissa frowned, "But you just read that Alfonse Nott was killed last night."

Lucius shook his head. "While I am aware he had been pressuring Cyrus for a contract, that is not the one that I was referencing." Seeing the questioning look on his wife's face, he continued after a slight sigh. "It seems that your cousin and his increasing fame is going to be presenting a proposal to Cyrus on behalf of his godson, the one and only Harry Potter, the Boy Who Triumphed," he added with a snort.

"Don't tell me that this professor O'Malley suggested that to Sirius as well," commented Narcissa, her eyes narrowing as she considered the information she was learning.

Lucius merely shrugged his shoulders in response.

"I met him once," observed Narcissa, "he seemed, familiar, yes, that's the word I was looking for. He did seem somewhat familiar."

"I suppose I should be grateful, not that the Death Eaters were either captured or killed last night, but that I was not among them," added Lucius thoughtfully. After a pause he added, "Our world is changing, whether we like it or not. Blood status may not be so important going forward, but that does not mean that neither me nor my son will not have a say on how it is shaped going forward."

"With a potential alliance with the House of Greengrass, and then leading to a possible future formal alliance with House Black and House Potter," added Narcissa, "that would lead to a formidable power block, regardless of whether or not blood purity mattered."

Lucius considered the new developments and his wife's words, then he smiled, "I do so like being on the winning team."

* * *

14.1

* * *

 **26 June 1995**

Greengrass Manor

A tall man with dark silk robes and wavy long greying hair made his way to the front entrance way of the grand manor.

"Sure beats Grimmauld Place," muttered the man. "The outside looks almost as impressive as my new manor in the country," he added as he paused to take in the grandeur of the house. "But it's just not quite my style."

As he finished speaking to himself, the front door opened and a house elf stepped out onto the landing. "Will the Lord Black be entering the home so I can make an announcement or is he going to be standing outside all day admiring the architecture?"

Sirius let out a deep roar of a laugh. "A house elf with an attitude? And apparently not a mean one like Kreacher, how marvellous."

The house elf narrowed its large bulbous eyes at the wizard standing below the steps. "I can hear you, these large ears do work," he said, then continued, "and I did have a distant cousin who worked for the House of Black, who went by the name of Kreacher."

Sirius smiled at the elf, "It seems the snarky nature runs in the family then."

Ignoring the comment from Sirius, the house elf inquired, "Do you plan on keeping Master Greengrass waiting much longer?"

"No, no, not at all," replied Sirius. Then with a wave of his hand he added, "So, lead on MacDuff!"

"The name is Tomas," corrected the house elf with a sniff as he turned to enter the house. "You may follow me, or not."

The house elf then headed into the foyer, with Sirius walking quickly to catch up the small creature. He then followed him right into the main sitting room.

"The lord of this house will see you, shortly," commented Tomas before disappearing.

Sirius paced around the room, looking at various family portraits that were clearly done over the past several generations. He started to wonder if he was making a mistake showing up here to speak with Cyrus Greengrass on Harry's behalf. It went against everything that Sirius believed was right and proper, which meant that it was most likely considered right and proper within the magical world.

Sirius heard a slight cough from behind him and spun around on his heal to come face to face with the lord of the house. Cyrus Greengrass cut an intimidating figure, standing at just over six foot tall, broad shoulders, and a well tailored robe of black with green highlights, made of the finest cloth.

"Ah, Cyrus, er Lord Greengrass, it is so good of you to allow me to come meet with you this day," Sirius said, fumbling over proper pure-blood etiquette.

"Cut the charade, Sirius," said Cyrus with a stern look on his face. "You're not fooling anyone when you try to put on the airs of a pure-blooded aristocrat!"

Sirius took half a step back and swallowed hard, hoping he hadn't messed everything up already.

Cyrus' face then broke into a big grin as he stepped closer, "Got you there, Sirius! The look on your face was priceless!" He then reached out and shook Sirius' hand vigorously. "It is good to see you again. After all of the pranks you pulled on everyone back in school, it was so good to actually get one over on you! Even if it was only a small one."

Sirius started to relax as he realised that Cyrus was having him on when he first arrived. "It is good to see you, too," he replied tentatively.

"I know, I know, we really didn't know each other very well back in our school days, and I may have been one of the only ones in Slytherin who actually enjoyed your pranks," added Cyrus.

"You never seem to quite fit in there," recalled Sirius.

"Well, not in some ways, but definitely in others," countered Cyrus. "You know, actually cunning, not mean spirited, actually having ambition, not arrogance. Besides, I knew your brother, he was a good kid, although perhaps a bit misguided back then."

"Actually, I heard he eventually repented of his ways, and tried to betray the Dark Wanker, and that was why he was killed," stated Sirius.

"You know, I am not at all surprised to hear that," said Cyrus with a nod, who then waved for Sirius to follow him into his study.

The two men sat down and Cyrus offered Sirius a shot of whiskey, "This is the good stuff, Scotch whiskey, muggle made, over 100 years old, not that Ogden's crap."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and accepted the small glass. "Muggle whiskey? How irresponsible of you! I'm already taking a liking to you, Cyrus."

"So, Lord Black," Cyrus said, changing to a slightly more formal tone, "why don't you tell me just why you are here?"

"Ah yes, why _am_ I here? That would have something to do with your daughter, _Daphne_ , and my godson, _Harry_ , Harry Potter," Sirius said by way of explanation. "It seems that the kids have been getting along quite well, and do spend a fair amount of time together."

"So I gathered, considering what happened with the second event in the Triwizard fiasco," said Cyrus. "Oh, and congratulations on Harry's victory in that damned tournament; and also on your success with those Death Eaters at the end. So, it would seem that you haven't lost your touch as an Auror then."

"Apparently not," said Sirius, avoiding saying anything about being prepared ahead of time due to knowledge from the future. "So, as I was saying, the kids, they do get along well, and while I am not much for tradition, personally, there may be certain advantages for both of them, Daphne and Harry, and for our families, if we were to make some sort of agreement, or alliance, or whatever." His words seemed to die in his mouth as he had a hard time actually stating the phrase betrothal contract.

Cyrus tried to still his features, then he burst out laughing. "You really are bad at pure-blood formalities and traditions, Black, _really_ bad."

"Are you going to make this any easier on me?" asked Sirius.

"No, why would I? This is entertaining enough as it is," said Cyrus with a large grin.

Sirius rolled his eyes, then he downed the rest of the whiskey that was in his glass. "Fine, have it your way," he begrudgingly continued. "Lord Greengrass, I propose that we enter into a betrothal contract between your daughter, Daphne Greengrass, and my godson, Harry Potter, heir to the Potter family and heir to the Black family."

Cyrus leaned back and stared at the man across from him. "You actually managed to say all of that and it didn't kill you. Well done, Sirius, or should I say, Lord Black, well done. So, to save you some worry, if we can hash out a few agreeable terms the answer will be yes. Daphne has caught wind of this proposal and I have been given permission to proceed, under the strong direction that traditional Black family requirements in a betrothal contract are _not_ to be included."

"Under one condition," countered Sirius. Upon seeing a questioned response on Cyrus' face, Sirius continued. "That no one outside of our immediate families know the details of the agreement. Because after all, everyone will assume that we have entered into a _traditional_ Black family betrothal contract."

"I think I am fine with that," Cyrus said with a smile. "You do have a little Slytherin in you yet, despite everything you have done publicly to deny it."

Sirius then pulled out a satchel, and then he withdrew a large document, that looked to be at least 50 pages of parchment thick. He then let the document land on Lord Greengrass' desk with a loud thud.

"And what is that, precisely?" asked Cyrus.

"That, my friend, is the _typical_ Black family betrothal contract, complete with grounds for terminating the bride for various reasons, demands of spousal purity on the part of the wife, oaths to support pure-blood idiocy; you know, all the usual crap."

Cyrus frowned as he stared at the document. Then Sirius continued, "If you're having trouble falling asleep, or better yet, if you want to have nightmares, read that before you go to bed sometime." Then he reached back into the satchel and pulled out a document that was only a couple of pages thick. "This is the basics that I think we need to include. And we can discuss whether we need to add anything or take anything out. Despite what the Daily Prophet used to say about me, I can be quite reasonable. Just don't tell anyone else, please."

Cyrus seemed to be relieved as he picked up the contract proposal. He skimmed through the paragraphs that outlined details such as both young people could choose to back out before the wedding without any adverse actions, that both would be allowed to work if they so wished, that there is an alliance formed between the three houses, Black, Potter and Greengrass.

Sirius then added as he noticed Cyrus was nearly done reading the articles, "Oh, there is an option about designating heirs for each of the three houses, so if the kids want to do that, then it will be up to them."

"So, my daughter marries into House Black and House Potter, and she could possibly have an heir for the Greengrass family, and my family is formally aligned with two of the most respected and powerful families in all of magical Britain," observed Cyrus as he looked through the document once again.

"Yes, basically, that's it," agreed Sirius.

Cyrus narrowed his eyes at Sirius and his tone became much more intense. "So, what exactly do _you_ get out of this, Lord Black?"

Sirius laughed at the question. "Me? What do I get? I get to help make my godson happy. I get an ally out of _your_ family, and perhaps most importantly, I get to thumb my nose at pure-blood tradition and many people will have no idea what I have done."

"So, part of this is for the kids, and part of this is just a prank? You're unbelievable, Lord Black," stated Cyrus.

"Of course," agreed Sirius triumphantly. "But wait, what is your answer?"

Cyrus rubbed his chin dramatically before finally replying with a chuckle, "If the young ones want this, I will sign it. Besides, it keeps Nott off of my back, forever."

"Well, Alfonse Nott is off everyone's back forever, is he not," stated Sirius with a laugh.

Cyrus smiled as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey. "This may be a long day yet, as we still have this whole bottle to finish!"

"And what about telling the kiddos?" asked Sirius as he handed Cyrus his glass.

"They still have a few years of school yet, there's no rush to finalise it," he said as he filled both glasses with the whiskey. Then he looked back at his new ally, "But as long as everyone knows this is happening, that may satisfy both of us for a little while."

Sirius happily took his now refilled glass. "I'll drink to that!"

* * *

14.2

* * *

Theodore Nott had been called home to help prepare for the funeral for his father. The Nott family had been rising in stature among the pure-blood elite within the magical society. Up until the night that Alfonse Nott was found dead when he went to Voldemort's side to assist him with his planned return to power.

However, in light of the growing public opinion against pure-blood supremacy and in the clear final defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the Nott family had seen their reputation drop faster than a house elf could apparate around their mansion.

Theodore was in a sour mood, and he was working on plans for getting revenge on any whom he saw as responsible for his father's death and his family's declining reputation. His mother noticed his dour look.

"What has you so upset? It's not like you actually spent much time with your father over the time when you were in school," observed his mother. "You didn't seem to want to have any interaction with him when you were home on break."

"That's not the point," he grumbled.

"Then what exactly is the point?" she asked.

"It's not fair! It's not fair that we're losing all of the advantages we have had!" he complained. "It's not fair that Potter and Malfoy and Greengrass come out looking so good! I thought father promised me what ever girl I wanted, and I wanted Greengrass!"

"Demanding a woman who has no interest in you will never bring you happiness," chastised his mother. "You'd be better off learning to live with the change in our world. The Dark Lord is gone, the blood-purist movement is ended with the defeat and capture of the remainder of his followers the other night. You will have to learn to live with this new world, or you will find yourself in a lot of trouble, or you will just have leave here."

Theodore was shocked to hear these words from his mother. "But," he began to protest.

"That's enough out of you," she snapped at him. "If you had been older, you probably would have followed him to that damned graveyard and ended up either dead or in Azkaban. Why? To follow someone who lied to everyone all along? Did you not even read the papers? They have proof that the Dark Lord wasn't even a pure-blood. He was just using people to get power for himself. It's time you grow up young man and realise nothing will be handed to you ever again. Not with the name Nott!"

* * *

14.3

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry still had 1 more week for exams . However, the rumours surrounding a purported betrothal between Harry Potter, the Boy Who Triumphed, and Daphne Greengrass, spread almost as soon as Sirius Black left the Greengrass Manor. Neither Lord Black or Lord Greengrass would admit to know anything about how the information was leaked to the general public, but it did not take long before articles in various publications were announcing the proposed union.

Harry Potter was a little bemused by all of the sudden attention. He had already been warned by his godfather that there would be discussions about a possible betrothal contract, and Sirius had been careful to explain to Harry the various reasons why this may be a good thing for Harry. He also reassured Harry that if he did not want to pursue this, then he would put a stop to it all immediately, and Sirius made it clear that he would expect the same right of refusal to be given to Daphne as well.

Daphne's initial reaction to the rumours were just that, she assumed that it was just simply speculation, or conjecture, or someone trying to prank her. But she did receive a message from her mother warning her about the proposed betrothal contact and reassuring her that Daphne would definitely have the opportunity to refuse this if she so desired, as that was one of Lord Black's stipulations.

Hermione Granger, however, was appalled when she heard the rumours. She confronted Harry and Daphne as they were studying for exams one afternoon; or more correctly, Harry was helping Daphne prepare for her exams as he was exempt from them after having competed in the TriWizard tournament.

"That is so barbaric!" exclaimed Hermione. "How can you treat a friend of yours this way?"

Harry wasn't sure how to respond, by Daphne was quick with a reply. "First of all, you do not know what you are speaking about, as our customs include betrothal contracts, and they are not viewed as barbaric per se in out society. Granted, some of them from certain families have had certain, shall we say, restrictive and potentially punitive clauses, but that is only in some of them."

"I've heard stories of what the Black family includes in their betrothal contracts," protested Hermione.

"Stories, and possible fabrications," pointed out Daphne. "And now that your bring this up, Harry has done nothing to treat me poorly, in fact, since you seem to be insisting on knowing details, we both have the right to refuse the contract, which is highly unusual in magical betrothal contracts, and that, Hermione, is not public information about the proposed contract between Harry's godfather and my father."

"But, wait, did you say that the contract is not even between the two of you? That makes it sound even worse," complained Hermione.

"Many cultures have arranged marriages," argued Daphne. "And in our society, being the eldest daughter to a pure-blood family with no male heirs, well, that makes it difficult to negotiate anything that would be beneficial to my family."

"But that still sounds barbaric," argued Hermione.

Harry put a hand on Hermione's shoulder in order to calm her down. "Hermione, you're one of my first and best friends. Please, just trust us on this. In muggle society, is it not customary for a young man to ask permission of a young woman's father in order to marry her? What if the father said okay, but only under certain circumstances? Does that make the couple love each other any less?"

"But, but," Hermione stuttered as she tried to come up with another argument.

Daphne spoke more softly to the apparently confused Hermione. "Granger, remember that no one is forcing anyone to do anything at this point. And, it may also be true that this arrangement _is_ protecting me from other arrangements that would be both hurtful and dangerous, on many levels. Just relax, and trust us on this, okay."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded that she understood. "But some things in this magical world just don't make sense," she said as she turned to leave them to their studying.

* * *

14.4

* * *

The next day, the Daily Prophet ran an article on the two men who helped defeat the resurrected Dark Lord. The front page of the paper once again focused on Dr. AC O'Malley and Lord Sirius Black, an unlikely duo to come together and work on their own in order to defeat the newly resurrected He Who Must Not Be Named (the newspaper continued to refuse to print the name Lord Voldemort or even use the name Tom Riddle, despite the previous article giving the former Dark Lord's family history).

A picture of the two men standing together near the graveyard was published with the article. The reporter had tried to convey just how and why these two teamed up to work together and why they went to the graveyard in the first place. There was no mention of the horcruxes in the article.

Sitting back in his study at the new Black Manor house, Sirius Black looked at the article and scoffed. "Me, a hero? I do not think that they know me very well," he muttered to himself and then tossed away the paper.

AC O'Malley had glanced at the article and was grateful that not too many questions had been asked. There was the usual why were you there, what were you expecting, and what did you plan to do, sorts of questions. For AC it was simply handled by Sirius being worried about his godson and tracking him when he disappeared from the maze. The reporter didn't bother to ask _how_ Sirius and AC had tracked Harry, as it was easily assumed that magic was used to do this. The reporter also did not ask too many questions about how He Who Must Not Be Named was defeated, as the story was sensational enough with recounting that there was a battle, the Aurors showed up as well as a couple of Unspeakables, and the dark wizard and his followers were soundly defeated. That was enough of a story for the writer, and the Daily Prophet felt it was enough of a story for their readers.

* * *

14.5

* * *

AC O'Malley was not exactly pleased to have to put up with all of the added publicity after Tom Riddle had been defeated. He was surprised that the newspaper and other media outlets in magical Britain accepted the truth of Tom Riddle's background so readily. He wondered how much of the changes in their world's view towards muggle born and half-blood witches and wizards came from his continued teachings on the topics, not only to his students, but to the general public as well. He never wanted to become a celebrity, but simply the instrument of change in the magical world, and he had always hoped that he would be able to stay in the background as he did so. But, to his frustration, the various articles were putting a much bigger spotlight on him than he had hoped for. Sure, he understood that his lectures and talks and the papers he published would bring him some attention, but his goal was always to focus that attention on the changes that needed to be made, and not on himself.

As AC glanced at the latest copy of the Daily Prophet, he shook his head and placed it on the side of his desk when he was startled by a knock on his door. "Come in," he called out to who ever had shown up unannounced. The students were taking exams at this time, and they were not his history of magic exams, so he was fairly certain it was not a student on the other side of the door.

AC looked up to see a woman with a fair complexion and bright blue-green eyes step through the door. He initially thought that she looked familiar, and tried to place where he might know her from.

Madam Astrea Faucons stepped in to his office, wearing a simple red robe with black lace trim. AC wondered if this woman was a little over dressed for making a random visit to the office of a simple history magic professor.

"Hello, AC," came the soft voice of the woman, a voice that seemed strangely familiar to the AC.

AC blinked slightly, and coughed, "Excuse me, madam, but do I even know you?"

"We did meet, once, in Diagon Alley," she said slowly. "Apparently we collided recently as I was on my way back to my potions shop. Faucons' Potions Extraordinaire."

"I think I do recall that day," he said trying to place her voice. "My apologies for not paying better attention to where I was going."

Astrea Faucons walked towards his desk, smiled as she approached the desk, and then leaned forward.

AC could not take his eyes off of this woman, and as she leaned forward he felt flushed as he realised he was not able to take his eyes off of her bosom which her dress robes did little to hide. As she leaned forward towards him, a pendant fell forward from between her cleavage.

The light hitting the silvery pendant caught his eye and drew them to focus on the jewellery, and then he noticed the letters A, G and M linked together artistically. Linked in just the same way he had designed a pendant for his wife years ago, before their son was born.

He blinked once again then his eyes shot up to meet hers.

"Astoria?" he cried out, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

Her face turned to a broad smile. "But of course, you couldn't hide from me forever, you know."

AC was stunned and confused and elated all at once. He felt a certain nausea grow in his stomach as his emotions went wild as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening. "But how? Where's Daphne? How did this happen?"

Astoria straightened herself up and looked back at her husband whom she had not seen nor spoken to for several years. "Daphne came to save me from Nott's thugs. She escaped from him when she redesigned the time travel device after you came back here. She even made it portable. And Daphne told me that you had come back in time."

AC stood up from behind his desk and made his way around to engulf her in a bearhug. He hid his face in her shoulder, smelling the perfume scents in her hair. After a minute in silence he leaned back to look her in the eyes once again.

"But how could you be here? You had died three years before I left to come back here," he stated, feeling confused about the entire situation, "and now everything has changed."

Astoria moved to sit down in one of the two chairs facing his desk, and pulled AC by the hand to sit down with her in the chair next to hers. "Daphne left from the timeline that you two were in when you left, the same timeline where I supposedly died a few years before you made your move to change history. Time is apparently linear, or at least it is after possible divergence points. Or that was Daphne's theory anyway. So, she managed to travel back to the night your old friend Theo sent his thugs after me in order to teach you a lesson." She paused for a moment and a tear formed in her eye, then she looked back at AC. "I only presume that she met the fate that we thought I had suffered."

AC tried shaking the confusion out of his head as he tired to understand all of the ramifications of the various jumps through time that had been made. "Unless it was always Daphne who was killed that night and you never did die," suggested AC.

"I guess we'll never know," came the sad reply from Astoria.

After an awkward minute in silence, Astoria looked up at AC and gave him a crooked smile. "So what is this I heard about you and Madam Rosmerta?"

AC blushed slightly. He stammered a moment before finally responding clearly, "Nothing happened, really, and besides, in my defence, I thought that you had died, in the future from now, well, in my past. And, the whole reason I came back was to protect you, so that we could be together."

Astoria relented and smiled at him, allowing him to relax a little. "It seems to be working so far. I also recall that Daphne said she made you make her a promise."

AC nodded, relieved to be off the hook about his friendship with Rosmerta. "About that, well, she did not want to end up with Nott again, and that is pretty much a given, or should be by now. And her secret crush just may end up with her."

Astoria looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What did you do now?"

AC smiled a little more broadly as he replied, "I was a Slytherin for a reason, even if I didn't show it that much when I was student. Certain parties may well have already arranged for a betrothal contract, a much better one as far as your sister is concerned."

Astoria smiled at his statement. Then she frowned at him as she changed the subject, "Could you have made it any more obvious as to who you are, Dr. AC O'Malley? I think once I finally saw your name it was all too obvious."

AC shrugged his shoulders, "It's not like anyone is looking for me to be two people at the same time. By the way, when did you arrive back in time?"

Astoria relaxed as she began her reply. "About 1988. And I had no idea who you were or where you were at the time. And I needed a way to support myself."

AC nodded as he observed, "So you opened a potions shop."

Astoria laughed at the comment, "Actually, I travelled to France, worked as an apprentice for a couple of years, before moving back here, to England."

"But you shouldn't need to have apprenticed," argued AC.

Astoria sighed a little, "I had no identification, no money and no name that I could use. What else could I have done? You had no idea I could even possibly come back in time."

AC stood up and pulled her up to him as he embraced her tenderly. "Do me a favour, Tori."

She looked up into his eyes as she asked, "What is that?"

"Never leave me again."

* * *

14.6

* * *

 _ **3 July 1995**_

Headlines in the Daily Prophet

 **Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has died**

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, O.M. (First Class), Grand Sorc., D. Wiz., X.J.(sorc.), S. of Mag.Q., passed away yesterday due to complications from a magical malady. The renowned sorcerer is known for his years as both a professor of transfiguration at Hogwarts and then for many years as the school's headmaster. He served both as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.

Dumbledore received the Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcery, for his defeat of Gellert Grindelwald after the great wizarding war that consumed much of Europe. He soon after that success was appointed as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He worked hard in the battle against He Who Must Not Be Named during the British Magical War in the 1970s that came to an end when the young Harry Potter mysteriously defeated him as an infant on October 31, 1981.

He is survived by a brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, proprietor of the Hogshead Inn in the village of Hogsmeade.

 _For more on Albus Dumbledore, see page 15!_

 **Wizengamot votes No Confidence in Ouster of Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge**

After the stunning news revelation that throughout his administration, the Minister for Magic received numerous bribes from those who have been finally proven without a doubt to be supporters of He Who Must Not Be Named, the Wizengamot met in an emergency meeting and did not take long to pronounce their verdict.

The Dowager Longbottom was most outspoken when she declared, "Only an evil man would willingly associate himself with the supporters of that dark wizard, V(_), and by taking their money he compromised the Ministry, he compromised our safety, and he compromised our young people!"

Ver few individuals even dared to speak in favour of the now disgraced former minister. One such individual was Lucius Malfoy, whose own name was dragged into the controversy when it was revealed that he had surreptitiously supported the former minister Fudge. "Our former Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore, may he rest in peace, was fond of stating that people deserved a second chance. Perhaps the minister was trying to make sure we stayed at peace, considering the tumultuous years of the previous administration and all of the fighting that had been happening in the past."

The Director of the DMLE, Madam Amelia Bones, was unavailable for comment on this issue, but her office relayed that they are vigorously investigating all information regarding any and all Ministry employees who may have improperly been receiving funds form any source.

 _For more on the Minister of Magic, see page 3!_

 **Minister For Magic Cornelius Fudge was bribed by Death Eaters for Years!**

The DMLE has released evidence that is being presented to the entire Wizengamot that shows for the entirety of his administration, Cornelius Fudge has willingly been accepting bribes from many Death Eaters. With the recent capture and demise of many of He Who Must Not Be Named's most ardent supporters, the opportunity for a financial accounting of those individuals personal records revealed that over the years there were many gifts and large sums of moneys paid to the now ousted Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. (See related article on vote of no confidence on this page.)

The DMLE released this information due to the concern of a national safety issue for all of magical Britain. There became a clear and consistent pattern of payoffs and bribes, many of which were timed near scheduled meetings and important votes over the past several years.

Notable individuals who were recently arrested or incapacitated last week at the graveyard resurrection of He Who Must Not Be Named include the Notts, the Carrows, the Macnairs, and the Selwyn families.

Lucius Malfoy, who was acquitted of charges of being a Death Eater in early 1982 when he plead the defence of having been imperiused, was also found to have donated numerous times to Mister Fudge's personal accounts. However, there does not appear to be any further evidence of his being a Death Eater, as opposed to many of his familiar associates, as he was not present at the attacks at the graveyard in Little Hangleton when the ritual to return He Who Must Not Be Named to a bodily form occurred last week at the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament. Lord Malfoy claimed upon questioning by reporters that he only was trying to make sure that the leader of our government was not wanting for anything, stating that he was ashamed at how little the Ministry of Magic paid its penultimate leader.

 _For more on the DMLE investigation, see page 2!_

 _For more on Lucius Malfoy, see page 16!_

The numerous events that had occurred at the end of June and into the beginning of July rocked the magical world in Britain. Their government was being reshaped, the acclaimed leader of the light had died, and the notorious leader of the dark, Tom Riddle, or known to the magical people of Britain as Lord Voldemort, or more simply as He Who Must Not Be Named, had been resurrected and then defeated, along with a number of his followers who had shown themselves to the public where they really stood.

The magical community while in shock, quickly resolved to supporting the more notable workers int he ministry, particularly Madam Bones and the leaders within the DMLE. The Wizengamot vowed to have a new Minister for Magic appointed within a week, and as the head of the DMLE Madam Bones was given the title of the interim Minister for Magic. She made it clear that she did not seek this position, but that she would gladly hold it only as a temporary measure until a proper and fitting candidate was installed as Minister for Magic in the very near future. One of the first things that she began to do as the interim minister was to begin an investigation into all of the various departments within the ministry. This covered all the departments, excluding the Department of Mysteries, where any sort of investigation was immediately rebuffed. Amelia Bones was at least grateful that she knew Saul Croaker quite well and was not feeling that there was any sort of cover up, but that the Department of Mysteries had long been essentially self governed.

It did not take long before various departments were discovered to have Death Eater sympathisers or blood supremacists working within the departments, many of those individuals with high ranking positions.

Lucius Malfoy essentially retired from the public view, although he did participate in the Wizengamot, as he was a member. However, he was no longer seen trying to be friendly with the Minster for Magic or any other leaders within the magical government, and it was rare that he or his wife were seen at public galas after that initial summer and what was for Lucius, an unusual occurrence of having significant amount of bad publicity follow him.

Dolores Umbridge, who had been appointed as the undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, was outed as a blood-purist. It was soon discovered she had been keeping secret files on anyone whom she thought was a muggle born or a muggle lover and was using these files to black mail other employees within the ministry. She chose to retire from any sort of public service, rather than face a public trial for her actions which she realised was unlikely to end well for her. She grew to increasingly resent Harry Potter, for in her little mind, he was the sole individual responsible for the changes in their world leading to the ouster of Cornelius Fudge, the disgrace of the blood purists, and the lauding of the works of such people as Albus Dumbledore. Years later, she would be found dead in her small home, with pink writing found all over her belongings, with one phrase repeated over and over again: "Harry Potter is a bad little boy."

Once the investigation into Cornelius Fudge's administration was complete, it was made clear that he had been little more than a puppet for the former blood supremacists, and many of the Death Eater supporters were now in disgrace and ousted from their positions within the ministry.

Amos Diggory was elected Minister for Magic, and Madam Bones returned to simply being the director of the DMLE. He was cheered universally my witches and wizards when he spoke about the importance of maintaining traditions within their world, but also about the importance of strengthening their economy and their safety by working with the muggles around them. He pointed out that there were not enough magicals in Britain to support an economy that was operating as an island cut of from the muggle world. He also promised to help improve the transition of muggle born witches and wizards into their society so that they would want to stay as productive members of the magical world and not feel the need to try and change everything that was different from the muggle world they grew up, which lead to more support from all corners of the magical world.

* * *

14.7

* * *

 **September 1995**

Harry Potter and his friends returned for their fifth year at Hogwarts. The staff had changed a little, considering that the famous headmaster had died shortly after Tom Riddle was defeated, and the potions master, head of Slytherin house, had retired over the summer.

At the opening feast, the newly appointed headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, announced that there was now a new potions professor, Astrea Faucons. The woman in questions stood up briefly and received a loud round of applause from everyone in the Great Hall.

 _July 1995_

 _Earlier that summer, Severus Snape retired from teaching. He met with Professor McGonagall the week after she had been named the headmistress, the week after Albus Dumbledore had been buried on the school grounds._

" _Minerva, I must announce to you, and thus the school, that I cannot continue as the potions professor here," he stated when he walked into her office._

 _Minerva was startled by the abrupt nature of his pronouncement. "Severus, but why? Is there something wrong?"_

 _Severus Snape paused for a moment before he replied to her. "You must be aware that I bear the Dark Mark, due to my foolish ignorance in my youth. I was provided with protection here, at the discretion of Albus. With the recent events, that being the final defeat of Riddle, and Albus' passing, I no longer need to fear for my life and I no longer need to pretend to be interested in teaching a school full of dunderheads. I no longer need to watch over Lily's son, I no longer need to serve my penance."_

 _Minerva internally was feeling quite mixed emotions. She really did not like Snape's attitudes towards students who weren't in the House of Slytherin, and she definitely did not care for his teaching style, but she could not argue with his skill in brewing potions, even if he was not gifted in sharing his knowledge and skill with others. "I am sorry to hear that, Severus. From your words, I suppose there is nothing I can do or say to make you change you mind."_

 _Severus restrained himself from forming a smile. "You don't need to lie to me, Minerva, I am quite sure you don't want to try and persuade me to change my mind. And you do not need to worry, I have made arrangements for my future."_

 _Minerva took a deep breath and thinned her lips before she replied. "In that case, Severus, may I be the first to wish you well in your future endeavours. And while we are discussing this, is there anyone whom you might suggest for the position as potions professor."_

" _You could try discussing things with my predecessor, Slughorn, or you could look for newer blood," stated Snape without any emotion. "I understand that there is a new potions mistress in Diagon Alley, and I must say, that she seems quite skilled, even by my standards."_

" _That is quite the glowing recommendation right there," said McGonagall with a smile. "Does this individual have a name?"_

" _Madam Faucons," replied the acerbic professor. "I understand she did some training in France."_

 _Minerva nodded appreciatively and then she asked him one more question. "Do you mind sharing with me what your plans will be, the other staff may want to know what you will be doing for your next career?"_

" _Madam Faucons has actually graciously given me a position at her shop, and she indicated that she may be willing to sell the shop," explained Snape. "I am not certain of her plans, she seemed rather vague when I spoke with her. However, I must say, she did help by creating a potion that managed to slow the spread of the curse that took the headmaster's life. Her work on that potion was apparently more successful than the one I had prepared for Albus."_

" _You will be missed, Severus," added McGonagall._

" _I'll be missed like a bad dream, at least by most of the students," corrected Snape. "I am not unawares of the opinion the majority of the students had of me during my tenure here."_

" _Well, then, in that case, Severus," concluded McGonagall, "all I can say is that I wish you well, and I do mean that, sincerely."_

 **14 September 1995**

The school was getting used to the new professors, and there was a lot less tension amongst the students. The house rivalries had died down to just competitiveness for the house cup and the Quidditch cup, but it had evolved into a much more civil and polite competition. The Slytherins no longer felt the need to prove themselves against the other houses, and they no longer were given carte blanche in their activities by their head of house. The newly appointed head of house, Septima Vector, while being a former Slytherin herself, held no such fanciful notion that her students could and would do wrong. With the loss of the Death Eaters, either to Azkaban or by being killed at the battle of Little Hangleton, or just by leaving the country, as several families had done, had left the house of Salazar a shadow of its former self.

However, there were some students who were not quite so accepting of their new status within Hogwarts or within the greater magical world.

By the second week of classes, Theodore Nott was miserable. His goals for his life were all in shambles. The trophy wife he was expecting to be delivered to him by his father was betrothed to the smug Potter. His father had died in disgrace rushing to the side of the newly resurrected Dark Lord, only to be killed in the ensuing battle that broke out. His families finances were in ruin due to penalties levied by the Ministry of Magic. And all of these changes were due to one person in Theodore's mind, and he would have his revenge on that person.

On Thursday afternoon, of the second week of classes, Theodore finally found his opportunity. Harry Potter was walking down the hallway, without any of his usual friends, be it the mud-blood Granger, the blood traitors Malfoy or Greengrass, or any of the many fools who chose to follow the supposed saviour of their society. In Theodore's mind, Harry Potter wasn't the solution to their world's problems but the cause of all of them. Theodore's hand began to shake a little with the excitement that was welling up within him over his now golden opportunity. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and then stabbed it in the air towards Harry Potter as he called out "Avada Kedavra!"

The bolt of green light shot through the air and whizzed passed Harry's head. Harry had heard some footsteps behind him and he became a little concerned. Once he heard the beginning of the spell being cast he dove for the floor and to his right. As luck would have it for Harry, the bolt of green light went to his left and high, due to the shakiness of Nott's hand.

Harry rolled to his right and had his wand out, grateful for the various training he had received from Sirius, Professor Lupin and others over the years. He began to cast a stunning spell at his attacker.

Nott was so startled by having missed Potter with his spell and then by the crash of rubble from where his spell hit the edge of the hallway up ahead, that he barely had time to jump out of the way from Potter's stunning spell.

The use of a dangerous spell in the hallways of the school set off wards and alarms, notifying the professors of the attack. Harry cast the disarming spell next which managed to remove Theodore Nott's wand from his hand just as Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor arrived. When the Headmistress McGonagall arrived, there was a quick review of the monitoring wards that clearly showed who cast what spells and when.

As they quickly had proof that not only had Theodore attacked Harry from behind, but he also used an unforgivable spell, the DMLE was immediately called to come and deal with the situation.

The trial was then set for the end of September, despite his mother's protestations that he was underage and could not be treated as an adult. The response from the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was clear: Theodore had been shown to use an unforgivable spell and that he had used it to attack a student, unprovoked and from behind. Those were easily established as facts that could not be argued. The trial was short and the verdict was that the young man was guilty of using an unforgivable with intent to kill a fellow student. The votes from those serving on the Wizengamot judiciary panel were unanimous for having the young man's wand snapped and his magic bound, as his actions indicated that he could not be trusted to have access to magic.

The Nott family's magical line was ended in disgrace at that time.

* * *

14.8

* * *

 _ **2019**_

Saul Croaker is meeting with two of his Unspeakables

"Don't tell me you've run off in time again," stated Croaker as he walked into the office of the two youngest Unspeakables.

There came no reply.

"Fine, be that way," he snapped. "But I do need to know, what did you do this time?"

The man in the grey robes replied simply and with another question, "Well, we didn't change the time line, did we?"

Croaker rolled his eyes. "Now how am I supposed to know that? I thought you said that changing the time line causes everyone to change with it."

"But we are the keepers of time," stated the other member of the duo.

"And we were just doing our usual research," added the first.

"Observing historical events, so as to clearly portray them for the public to know and understand what happened," the female voice added.

Croaker shook his head. "Your definition of observation and research, I fear, is different from the definition the rest of this department uses."

The woman replied incredulously, "What? This is the Department of Mysteries. How we define observation and research may be a mystery to everyone else."

Croaker snorted at the quip. "I do not have time for your nonsense. So, what exactly did you do?"

The man answered first. "We confirmed the death of one Madam Rosmerta in the spring of 1995 was caused by Death Eaters, and that her death subsequently helped lead the national reaction against the Death Eaters and the blood-purity movement, and this stabilised the Ministry of Magic and brought peace to the magical society."

Croaker looked skeptical. "Didn't we already know that, or did you change the timeline?"

"We were fairly certain of the facts," the woman added, "and we did not change that timeline at all."

Croaker narrowed his eyes as he looked the two up and down. "Why does your answer disturb me?"

"It shouldn't," argued the man, "as we made our objective clear and we can continue to inform the magical public of the historical events and how we have made progress as a society."

Croaker was still not convinced by the two. "Now what else did you do?"

The two looked at each other for a moment before the woman responded. "We also observed and confirmed the events surrounding the ultimate defeat of the one who was once known as He Who Must Not Be Named."

Croaker shrugged, "Everyone knows him now as Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Yes, of course," agreed the man. "And we documented the duel between Professor O'Malley, Lord Black, and the reincarnated Riddle and his followers."

Croaker eyed them even more carefully, his suspicion about what had actually happened in their travels growing. "And what did you discover?"

The woman answered, "The events happened essentially as they have bene reported. While it is not clear how Black survived, the fact that he, O'Malley and Potter all returned alive from the graveyard in Little Hangleton continues to be the most surprising and successful battle of the entire war, and that battle decisively ended the blood purist movement when it was made clear that their supposed leader was actually a half-blood, and that he was the product of a muggle and a near squib; and to top it off, he was defeated by a pure-blood, a half-blood and a Professor who was either a Half-blood or a muggle born."

Croaker shook his head. "So, did you or did you not try out any new spells when you went back to observe?"

The man rubbed his face slightly, "Well, there was this one new spell. And it worked quite well."

Croaker stared at the two. "And what exactly does this spell do?"

The woman continued recounting about the spell, "It's the spell designed to absorb magical energy."

"Magical energy? How can that even be possible? Wait, don't answer that," he stated before either one of them spoke. "What kind of magical energy?"

"It can absorb the killing curse," declared the man.

Croaker was becoming irritated. "And how exactly did you determine this?"

"Well, Potter, here, used it to save Black's life," stated the woman.

Croaker shook his head and stared at the two in disbelief. "You stopped someone from dying? You know that is against the time travel rules!"

"They're more like guidelines," stated Potter.

"Besides, we made the guidelines, or rules," stated the woman, "after I created the time travel device."

"Which you created previously," observed Croaker. "You know Greengrass, you are quite difficult yourself."

"Actually, it's Mrs. Potter," corrected Daphne, "and has been for years. But apparently I did create it in a different future, and my sister brought it to me when I was younger, so I still made the device, just at a slightly younger age."

"So, you saved Black's life," commented Croaker, "which tells me that he originally died, and you didn't allow that to happen."

"He does sponsor this department and our research," stated Harry.

"I'm not any more comfortable with your arguments about this, Potter, or with you either, Mrs. Potter," snapped Croaker. "I can tell we're not getting anywhere with that issue tonight. So then, that leaves the professor, as we already know about what happened to you, don't we Potter? And why does no one the true background of that professor? O'Malley, wasn't it?"

Daphne then answered his questions. "First of all, all that is known is that he came from Australia, but his records are sketchy. And second of all, no one really cares at this point. And apparently, no one really knows his background. We've checked in the past, can't find anything helpful about him."

Croaker was still frustrated with the lack of straight answers. "Where is he now, this history professor?"

Harry spoke up in response, "We know that he retired from teaching at Hogwarts in 2000, and apparently he and his new wife, the potions mistress, Faucons was her name I think, disappeared not long after that. They haven't been heard from ever since."

"Do you two have anything to do with their disappearance?" wondered Croaker.

"Absolutely not," replied Daphne. "Besides, he helped arrange for the two of us to be together, as he did assign us a part of a study group together back in our first year at Hogwarts."

Croaker nodded feeling that he was not going to get much more useful information. "And I'm not going to be receiving a report about this tomorrow, am I?"

"You suggested the policy, nothing in writing about time travel, so as to minimise anyone learning about it," explained Harry.

"So, where does that leave us?" asked the director of the Department of Mysteries.

"Well, things may have been imperfect, but they seem to be doing just fine, now," commented Harry. "So, we're not going to be worrying about it."

"Then you're done playing with the past and the future," stated Croaker, hopefully.

"We'll see," replied Daphne, "we'll see."

* * *

 **AN: C'est fini!**


End file.
